


The Messenger

by Drones_of_Innocence



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Religion - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Against all odds, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angelican, Angels vs Demons, Arthur Kirkland - Freeform, Britannia Angel, Demonocracy, Devil, Fallen Angel, Fate, Fluff, Gen, Grief, Heaven, Hell, Insanity, Linkin Park - Freeform, Love, Lucifer - Freeform, M/M, Morality, Muse - Freeform, Music, Other, Peace, Politics, Rage, Religion, Romance, Song - Freeform, Sweet Devil, USUK - Freeform, War, Wings, alfred f jones - Freeform, blackout - Freeform, faith - Freeform, fidelity, libertea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2018-04-09 11:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 148,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4347533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drones_of_Innocence/pseuds/Drones_of_Innocence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Heaven and Hell clash in a pointless war, the wish for a utopia stems from the middle. But since diplomacy would never work, a spy would have to be sent in, one to be a demon but to retain everything that makes him an angel. But what if in the middle of the war, the spy learnt of what's really happening? What would he do to stop the supremacy and dominion? Angel Demon AU, USUK</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Debt

The noise that had drawn him in was the soft whimpers of pain that echoed from the darkness. He had been foolish to follow that sound, but, young and curious as he was, obviously he couldn't resist.

A small light compared to the black that came from the place below. One lone angel, caught in the territory of the damned.

He was now faced with a small boy, quite a bit younger. The demon hissed and whined, facing away on the ground and not quite able to come to terms with the gravity of his situation. The angel was startled and frightful at the sight at first, but slowly he calmed down and watched the other in fascination.

Mercy was a trait in all angels valued greatly, but it could also be their worst flaw; in battle, hesitation was enough to cost a life. But this particular angel had not yet seen the collateral damage of war, and mercy beat very strongly in his heart, typical of the young. With great precaution, he tentatively approached the small, wounded demon.

The demon started violently when he finally noticed the angel, and his big blue eyes went wide with panic. But he could not cry, no, demons could not cry. He gasped instead, and attempted to back away with a snarl.

A single tear fell from the angel's face. His glowing green eyes held nothing but apologies and sorrow for this suffering soul, and he cared not of race or heritage. Bringing a hand up to wipe his face, he slowly knelt by the cornered demon. He was afraid, and his hands shook when he hesitantly reached with his wet hand towards the deepest gash on the demon's chest. Almost immediately the wound began to heal, upon the contact with the angel's tears.

The demon relaxed only slightly, his eyes not holding as much fear. He met eyes with the angel, and that was all the white-winged creature needed to know it was okay. The tears fell freely from his face now, and with both hands, he began to heal the demon.

Once he was finished, his sandals slid slightly on the wet cobblestone as he stood, flexing his beautiful feathered wings. He was going to get ready to leave, when the demon followed suit, and leaned towards the angel with curiosity.

Leaning away, the angel did not know what to make of it. But he didn't let himself be afraid; all the demon was doing was observing him, harmlessly. He even tilted his head a little, iridescent irises flitted over his features, and even the angel couldn't stop himself from doing the same to the other. After all, it wasn't often an angel got to see a demon up close without being attacked, and vice versa.

"Why did you do that?" the demon asked quietly, blinking and meeting eyes with the angel.

The angel took a moment to answer, knowing it was time to go before anything else happened. "Because it was right," he replied, and took off to the golden skies of heaven.


	2. The Prophecy

Prologue

And so, the Prophecy is told.

Angels cannot rage and Demons cannot weep, for the rage would infest and consume the Angel soul from within and the tears would burn down the Demon's cheek to purge the soul from outside. And the Angel would, in a fleeting moment, be destroyed in his own anger. And the Demon would, in an agonising eternity, be scarred to death in his own flaming tears.

This was proclaimed by the ruler of all, as the first half of a prophecy. Long ago in the ashes of their brothers and sisters, the second half was lost in the Flame. Or so the Legends said. A treacherous war had ensued afterwards, declaring the fate of both species over a story told ages before. And it hasn't ended. It won't for quite some time.

Heaven and Hell were at a breaking point; each accused the other pointlessly over knowing the second half and fighting to infiltrate each other's territory to potentially find what wasn't there. Dominion descended to their world, and while in and amongst the supremacy of rancour, the endless generations of Angels and Demons learnt to teach their children to hate, corrupt and brainwash them to hate the other. Enemies for Ever. Fidelity and affection were lost in the minds of them all, and the two kinds were plunged into a dark, malevolent, and bloody time.

That was, until the thought occurred for peace within the skies of the Angels.

But seeing as diplomacy wasn't even an option, they had to keep their idea confidential, their only chance to stop staggering slaughters and hopeless holocausts a secret deep in the depths of their society.

After years of contemplation, it was decided it was a mission. A mission that would take years to complete, mostly to suggest and establish the same idea amongst the enemy in disguise. It would have to be done by one, the fate of all winged-kind pressing down on his shoulders. One Angel to become a Demon.

The Angelicans would have to choose a chosen one, an individual born and bred for the unmatched, unchallenged task. He or she would have to be ready and prepared to face the Demonocracy as a Demon themselves, and still retain everything else that makes them an Angel. Essentially, they would have to send a spy in.

So the Angel government waited, watching their children and people in their past, vying for the One. He, who would not be named for a long time.

Gradually the idea became so vyed for, until the selfishness of peace became something more, something evil. The idea was distorted into something crueller, and the angels would lose themselves in making the ideal utopia for themselves. Some of them lost their mercy in the process. Utopia suddenly was only for the selected few, choice by Unnatural Selection. In order to make it real, a different breed of angels would have to rise up. So the search for the One continued, more frantically by those who had nearly succumbed to their more human desires.

And then he was there. It was magic, seemingly, the Angelicans didn't know how they'd overlooked him. A little boy, daring and unafraid of seemingly anything, yet cynical and distrusting of anyone and everyone. He had no notable friends, no one anyone could say he cared for, really. All in all, he supposedly had nothing left to lose. Not that he ever had, in all honesty. Rogue, yet perfectly disciplined, but also bereft. He was ideal.

"Bereft of what?" questioned one of the higher Angels.

"Bereft of love." answered the Divine, a slight sadness in his tone.

O~o~O


	3. Butterflies and Hurricanes

Change...Everything you are...And everything you were...Your number has been called...

"Urgh..." The angel moaned softly, blinking and trying to shield his eyes from the sudden blinding light. "Wh...What..."

As his luminous green eyes slowly adjusted, he finally tried to look up. All around him were angels of a higher rank, as shown by their uniforms. The boy had only seen a higher angel once, but now he was surrounded by them. And all were looking at him with fear very much evident in their eyes.

"C-careful," one of them said. "Take it easy, child. Wait for your memories to return."

Green eyes slowly slid upwards to meet the gaze of someone, anyone. But none of the valiant warriors seemed to be able to. "What...What has happened?" he asked quietly, his voice slightly hoarse.

The angel nearest to him finally gained enough courage to at least look at him, and, with his strong wings and hands quivering, he reached over to stroke the boy's hair. "Y-you look so different..." he trailed off.

When the bigger angel retracted, some of his hair fell into his eyes, and the boy sat up abruptly. Many of the angels jumped and fluttered a couple of steps away in surprise. They watched with wide eyes as he looked at his hair in shock. "Wh-why is it red?!" he asked in devastation, looking in despair at his formerly blonde hair. The memories were only coming back to him now, but not before something moved behind him and startled him so badly he fell out of the bed.

This made the others back away even further as he bumped into a wall, looking in horror at himself. The tail was what had moved, a sleek black thing that had had a pointed, arrow-like tip. Instinctively, he wanted to fly upwards out of fear, but ascended faster than he expected and nearly hit the high cathedral ceiling. Dropping just as fast, he landed on the floor with a dull thud and panicked again and flew sideways at the opposite wall. Upon striking the hard surface, he cried out, his new and foreign black wings flapping uselessly and his arms flailing.

The higher angels attempted to take action. "Child!" one of them addressed him worriedly, still very reluctant to come near.

"My Child, you are afraid, that much is understandable! All will become clear to you soon. Just allow yourself to breathe!" another one dared to flutter over to him, trying to gather enough courage to kneel next to him. "Shhh, shh, everything will be alright."

The soothing words of the other quickly did its work, and the boy finally was able to take a deep breath. Eyes glistening with tears, he leaned as much as he could against the wall and looked up helplessly at the larger divine being. "Wh...What happened..." he tried to say.

"Shhh, you need not speak. Just breathe," the angel told him soothingly, smiling down at him. Slowly getting braver, he reached out to the boy and gently pulled him into a warm embrace as the tears streamed down the boy's face. The younger immediately surrendered and held on tightly, and the sight of his tears was enough to let the other angels relax; they were proof that he was indeed still an angel, because demons could not cry.

"His heartbeat still elevates," one approached from the boy's other side, and brushed wings with him.

As the others came closer, the boy peeked out from the higher angel's shoulder as his white wings surrounded the small figure. "I believe his memories are making their return. Child, are you alright now?" one leaned downward to look at him with a small, almost fascinated smile.

The boy gave a wide-eyed look to the angel before ducking his head and hiding behind the other angel's chest once more. He could feel soft chuckling coming from the archangel who held him, and he snuggled a little closer, seeking comfort.

"He looks very frightening." he listened to them speak of him as the angel stroked his hair and the warmth was shared with their hearts. "There is no good that could come from allowing Heaven to see him like this."

"We cannot separate him from those of which he is familiar," another disagreed. "He has a little bit of time before he makes his departure. Should we ask if anyone wishes to see him?"

The angels began to settle around him in calm conversation. "You listened to Him, did you not? He made clear His words, this angel has no one who will wish to see him, nor anyone whom he will wish to see. He is bereft."

"He is also a lonely angel who is soon to be dispatched into a world in which none of us know, that he will have to learn. Our kind is very accepting. We should not be afraid to let him walk through our halls once more, because he may never get another chance. What he is about to do is of dangerous parametres, a task none of us could hope to accomplish. He has a mission to save all of winged-kind. He has been ordered by the Divine Himself, in order to bring a halt to the warring parties of Angels and Demons." the one to his right defended quietly.

"We are asking too much of this child." the one holding him agreed sadly, pressing his chin to the top of his soft red hair. "What He asked is completely unfair to this poor soul. But I have no doubt that Arthur will be able to save us. Arthur will be sung about in our songs for centuries to come, and he will be remembered for his sacrifice."

A hand was brushed through his hair as the angel released the boy and stood, surrounding himself with the others. When the demon boy followed suit, they all gave him the Angelican salute. "Arthur, we would like to have the honour of flying with you through heaven one last time." despite their comforting words, there was something that seemed a little off. It appeared as though they were sad, sad about what they were saying, sad about what was going to happen. But for a deeper reason than would be suspected.

Arthur was shocked, to say the least. Five of the most powerful and glorious angels in existence wished to join wings with him, and fly through heaven. If that wasn't a way to remember home, the young angel didn't know what was. Without hesitation, and with a slightly excited smile, Arthur nodded.

The air they flew through was warm and soft, and Arthur enjoyed the feeling of it curling through his hair, his wings, his body. He was not unaware of the various angels that were also enjoying the embrace of the sun that regarded him with fear, but he pretended to be. He did not want to see their reaction if he met eyes with them.

He still had yet to get used to his new wingspan; the strange black contraptions were definitely more dark and gothic in appearance, and to remain at the pace they were going they required a faster wingbeat to keep up. Angel wings were far more powerful and he would remain aloft without so much as a flap with his actual wings. But demon wings were built more for speed and dives, not level and leisurely flight. Ascension vs Descension was the difference, he realised.

The higher angels did not appear to notice how he almost struggled to keep up. His wings were beating way faster than he was used to, and he was tiring quickly; all he could pray for was that his lungs could take it. But then he had to remind himself to concentrate on what he was seeing; the clouds and castles of heaven were not something he would see from here on out. He feared he would never see home again. But he was chosen to do something that no one else can do, and that thought coaxed a little pride in his chest.

Letting his eyes slide closed for a moment, he let his hearing expand beyond and smiled when he heard the choirs and the bells, all the sweet sounds that made heaven so pleasant. He would definitely miss the voices that sang as proud as the sun would shine.

The golden sunset awaited their arrival as they landed before the most glorious palace of them all. At first, the guardian angels reacted by raising their bows, and Arthur stumbled a step backwards, already too fatigued to resist attack. But the higher angels indicated that it was all safe, and Arthur was led down the path that would lead to his place of departure.

Arthur went wide-eyed with wonder, and his breathlessness was forgotten. He looked around the utterly beautiful palace, green eyes practically glowing. But, glancing downwards, he caught sight of himself, and bit his lip. Looking back up, he realised just how out of place he was here. But that was a common revelation he experienced throughout his life, being bereft and lonely and all. But now, with his black uniform and wings and tail, and even his red hair...None of it belonged in a place like this. He didn't belong.

"My Lord," Arthur said, immediately bowing his head when a figure came into view, and the higher angels did the same.

"Arthur, my Child," a smile was heard in the archangel's tone when he approached. "I see you are about to make your departure. You have come to say farewell?"

"Y-yes, Camael." Arthur stuttered, without meaning to. "I leave when the sun dips over the horizon."

He chuckled. "I see. Arthur, my Child. My brave, brave Child. You are a source of inspiration for all angels, and maybe all of winged-kind. I have no doubt that you will be able to succeed in bringing peace to this realm. You are kind, honest, loyal, merciful, and gentle. A model for all angels. But you are also clever and cunning, powerful, and swift. You will find a way to accomplish your mission, and you will do whatever it takes. Even if it means destroying Demonocracy."

Arthur looked up in surprise. "D-destroy Demonocracy?" he asked weakly.

Camael nodded serenely. "Change everything you are, and everything you were..." he murmured quietly, approaching Arthur. "Your number has been called..."

"Fights and battles have begun, revenge will surely come...Your hard times are ahead..." The angels behind him recited

."Best, you've got to be the best, you've got to change the world, and use this chance to be heard! Your time is now...Your time is now...!"

Without warning all of the archangels that surrounded Arthur raised their wings to full span to catch the sunlight.Stumbling backwards and falling on the floor, Arthur watched in a slightly terrified wonder as the angels sang the words to him, emphasising the dangers that were to come. Was this right?

Even when he approached the final cloud he would stand upon, the singing voices of the higher ranked angels behind did not soothe him. Zadkiel, the angel who had held him in the Cathedral of Healing, touched his shoulder reassuringly.

He looked back one last time at the kingdom of Heaven, taking in as much of it as he could. Arthur's eyes were wide with the same fear a child would have being taken from his mother. He did not want to go, that much was clear. But a mission had to be done by someone, and it was his duty and obligation to fulfill that promise for God. After all, as Camael said, his number has been called.

"Don't let yourself down...Don't let yourself go...Your last chance has arrived..." were the last words he heard as he flew from the cloud to the Hell below.

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! :) I am Le Fez, but you may call me Madz ^^ This story is probably going to be my most intricately planned yet, and I cannot tell you how excited I am with the ideas and underlying meanings this will have.
> 
> First, I guess you could say this story could play off of politics XD It is kind of critical towards it, especially with the terms 'demonocracy' and 'angelican'. However I can assure you I am not using Democracy and Republican as the central theme, but rather the opposition itself, at least, of various political parties. This isn't totally about it though, because I'm certain a dumb angel demon war story that's actually about politics would bore you to death XD
> 
> Second, this story stemmed from music. And this is what is most important about the physical components of the story, so I hope you listen/read well. The goal I want to achieve by writing this is to go on a journey with you. Yes, you :) I want to connect with you as a reader on a personal level and and I don't want you to think of this as something I made for you, because we're making it together :D Every word I write is something imagined in your mind that neither I or anyone else can fathom, and I want to take that and make something with out out of that. I want you to learn and teach with this story.
> 
> A lot of these chapters will be named after songs. Not all, but most of the important ones. I have observed that when we listen to a song, sometimes we come up with a little mental video in our heads to go with it, even if it's completely irrelevant to what the song is about XD With this story, I am taking a song for you to listen to as you read, and together we forge what happens in whatever way, shape, or form you imagine things. An example is this chapter; Butterflies and Hurricanes. What I see when I listen to this song is Camael and the other Archangels singing in a dramatic performance to Arthur in a large cathedral he will depart from, but the tone is ominous and frightening even when the intent is encouraging. Camael is telling Arthur that this is his chance to do something great! But this will require everything he's got. Also, there is a slight suspicion that not all of it is for a good reason.
> 
> Because of their critical components, I think the entire playlist I have put together comprises purely of MUSE and Linkin Park songs. A lot from the album The Resistance, and A Thousand Suns, in case you are familiar with either band XD
> 
> I would love to know what you see when you read and listen to the song! :)) I want to know our journey and experience it with you, because while I may direct you to see what I want you to, I am not totally dictating the way you interpret and imagine the events. Just remember this is a totally new style of writing for me, at least. I'm not sure if anyone has tried to incorporate songs into a story this deeply.
> 
> The thing I love is that a good song can be interpreted in millions of ways :) This just happened to be a way I saw these songs all together and I sincerely hope you and I have a hell of a time together :D Let's you and I make this something great, and something to be remembered!
> 
> ~Madz


	4. The Lightning Strike

Rain was still a very new concept to Arthur.

He stood out in it for awhile, perched on the highest reach of a dark building near the city. The sensation was strange, but not unpleasant; in fact, he would almost say he rather liked the feeling of water rolling off his hair, tapping his wings. He also liked the taste and smell of it, combined with the night.

Running a gloved hand through his slick, red hair and accidentally catching his fingers on his small horns, Arthur let out a quiet sigh and lowered himself to a squatting position, imitating the appearance of a gargoyle like he'd seen as a common practice. He narrowed his eyes, peering with his almost glowing green irises over the horizon of the dark town, lit only by the moon reflecting the water. He'd never imagined the night to be so tranquil.

He had been a demon for quite some time now. Maybe a few weeks? Demons didn't keep exact track of time, so he wouldn't know. It could be months. It had been rough at first; angels and demons were truly opposite beings, and Arthur was forced very quickly to learn what common habits and traits he would have to display to blend in. Where angels preferred to be in warmer temperatures, demons felt more comfortable in the cooler degrees. Arthur found it difficult to hide his discomfort and fidgeted a lot.

Another thing was that the sun rarely ever showed itself in demon territory. It could be nighttime or daytime at any time, since the moon was almost always in the sky. And Arthur had noted demons only required approximately two hours of sleep, whereas angels needed at least eight. That explained a lot, at least as to why demons didn't need to mark time.

Arthur had been in the process of planning on going to the Military training for demons, which, since it was directly linked to the war with the angels, would be a primary factor in influence. But the consideration was difficult; he might get into a direct conflict with angels, or he even might have to kill one. He was not yet so familiar with demons to where he knew their nature in an academic or militaristic environment. Other than the fact that they were ruthless.

Nevertheless, he knew he needed to get involved. He was determined to spread the idea of peace as far as he could, and successfully get the ball rolling for order in the realms. That was all he lived for. That was his entire purpose in life.

He would never tell anyone, but his only motivation, for now, was the want to go back to heaven, to be back home. He didn't know if he would ever feel the embrace of the sun again, and that scared him. If there was anything he could hope, it was that he would someday not have to live shivering all the time. The only other option here was to burn.

Arthur was pulled out of his melancholy and wistful thoughts when the rain began beating harder on him and the rooftops. Opening his mouth slightly, he glanced around in near wonder at the flying water that he had never before believed to be so gentle. Holy Water never fell from the sky in heaven. "I suppose I should go..." he murmured aloud to himself.

He stood, and jumped off of the rooftop. Normally he would never dare to do such a thing, but his slow and gradual adjustment into his new wings was making him become a little braver. However, it forced him to think quickly. Drop right, spin this way, sharp turn on your left. It was almost a mind game that Arthur rather enjoyed.

The speed was thrilling to the angel. With his black demon wings, he could make surprising turns and advancements that he could not before. Just before he hit the wall of the building across from the one he'd stood on, he flexed his wings and immediately ascended upwards, chin almost brushing on the wet brick. Just as soon as he was above and lost momentum, he dropped and flew sideways in the alleyway with hardly any effort. He had finally figured out that he couldn't rely on the wind or his feathers to carry him, instead he had to take advantage of gravity to move quickly.

He crossed the city that way. He was headed to a remote place, deep in the heart of the darkness that one could only get to by flying through a maze of dark paths and alleys. Over the short time that he'd been here, he'd quickly mapped out as much as he could of the place and grown used to memorising locations. His sense of direction was becoming very adept, and his body was also getting more used to his anatomy and surroundings; his lungs had expanded a little, and his form naturally went from flamboyant and glorious to sleek and small. He was a smaller target, a stronger fighter, a resilient defender, a sharp thinker, and, most importantly, a will-driven survivor. It was given that no other angel but him could make this drastic a change.

This did not come without mistakes, though. His strange manner of speech had gotten him into many fights with other demons because they thought he was trying to sound more intelligent than they were. Demons had almost a reversed way of talking that Arthur wasn't used to. He was still learning, but at least his accent gave him a small excuse as to why. His strength was also very surprising, but very useful as well. For a small figure such as himself, he could put up an excellent fight. However, he was forced to learn very quickly that retreat was usually the best option when faced with multiple opponents. But he was also held back at times from malnourishment and dehydration, and was barely lucky to even escape.

He was very lucky he was a skilled thinker; his life had been in the balance too many times for his comfort in the past few days, so his resourcefulness was only all the better.

Arthur dove and flew a couple of inches off the ground before returning to flying along the walls and navigating with quick spins for sharp corners. The only trace the few demons around had as he passed was a soft disturbance of air, a slight breeze.

Demons, because of their generally nomadic nature, did not usually keep homes like angels did unless they were very involved with where they were. They did not consider it a need, mostly because two hours of sleep could be done anywhere. They were not very sentimental, and usually could care less about their belongings, if they had any. At this point, all Arthur owned was his clothing; the uniform that was worn like a suit. Dark pants, dark formal jacket with a red dress shirt, dark boots, dark gloves. He felt strange after wearing a short toga for so long.

But he'd decided this little area, deep in the dead end of a disguised alleyway, was a good place for him to catch up on as much sleep as possible. He had not quite been comfortable to let himself sleep for the full eight hours during his time here, since he was so afraid, but he at least could get four or five hours at a time without being disturbed. He hoped desperately that a demon wouldn't stumble upon his still form and bug him because he was a heavy sleeper and would have a difficult time defending himself. Demons were very light sleepers, and it was rare he could so much as walk by without having to wrestle with someone.

With a silent sigh, he circled twice in the air around his little area before landing on the ground, shivering. He shook himself off, starting from his hair to his wings and tail, and then, after flinging water everywhere, he leapt up on top of a couple of empty crates and curled up, concealing himself in the shadow. There was a filthy fabric tarp that had sat there for a while, and, although it was a bit wet, it would have to do. Arthur carefully pulled the tarp over himself, hoping to be fully hidden from view as he slept.

O~o~O

The face he saw was a in a brief flash of light and a loud and alarming crash. He believed they called it lightning and thunder.

He recognised the sensation of rain, but not the smell or taste. He didn't recall the name, but it was dark red and slippery, vile and metallic to the taste. Despite never having seen it before to his memory, the sight was startling; red was everywhere, on the ground and on him.

The face was also someone he didn't remember seeing. Pale, bright blue eyed, and blonde hair that was beginning to get so red that it was black to the roots. The boy had a eerily wide grin, in fact, almost stitched into a wide grin. Was he laughing? Well, he wouldn't have been heard over the pounding-

CRASHHHHHH-!

O~o~O

"Hey! Wake up, you little-!"

Arthur was awoken abruptly, a sharp pain shooting up the side of his head, and being roughly shaken. He let out a small cry in panic and kicked the blanket off, revealing that he was being shoved around by a scruffy and hungry looking demon. Out of immediate annoyance and anger, he grabbed an arm of the poorly dressed demon and hurled him off, sitting up on top of the crate. Rubbing his hurting head, he glared at the offender.

"What the hell was that for?!" he demanded, watching as the demon slowly picked itself up. Arthur shifted so he was balanced on the balls of his feet, still on top of the crate. The tip of his tail twitched impatiently as the demon gave him a drunken smirk and stumbled to his feet.

"Thought you were a lil' girlie," he muttered, wiping drool from his lip with his disgusting hoodie sleeve. At Arthur's snarl, he giggled a little and made a rude hand gesture at him. "'Ain't I wrong! You're just a-"

He was cut off when Arthur lunged from his crate, flew along the ground, and came up just to tackle him. He caught the demon before he could hit the stone, and held him up by his collar, looming over him. "Quite wrong," he hissed, his eyes intensifying in anger. The slight flash of fear in the demon's dark eyes pleased him. "Fool. Think about what exactly you're getting yourself into when you prey on someone in their sleep!" he raised him slightly, and naturally, the demon tried to fly away. But Arthur used the potential energy and the arc of his arm to simply make him fly directly into the ground behind him, and hence knocking him out.

That was taken care of thoroughly, after dragging him far from his small territory, of course. Arthur took off after that, in search of what he would do during his waking hours now. But first things first, he had to find somewhere to cleanse himself; he felt absolutely gross, and, luckily, demons also shared a need with angels, to be clean.

Because of the small percentage of demons that actually owned houses, there were many small buildings that existed as just washrooms inside shops and the like. Arthur quickly spotted one from high up, and dove down towards it without hesitation. He found himself slightly relieved when he glided inside, only to find no one but the owner there.

"Good morning," he greeted absentmindedly, looking for the half of the room that would be the washrooms.

The demon lady, whose face formed a natural snarl from years of harsh stares, let out an annoyed huff and nodded to him, adjusting her black formal wear. "Washroom's in the back, goods in the front," she told him in an extremely nasal voice, with an accent Arthur identified as Northern American.

Arthur glanced at her. "Thank you." with a flap of his wings he was in the air and was quickly around a corner and in privacy, for the first time in too long.

"Aaahhh!" he sighed loudly, even allowing himself to grin a little. He missed not being around tons of demons all the time. He found the mirror and immediately winced at his reflection, startled by his appearance. Every time, he thought. every time. He reached up to unbutton his black military-style jacket and red formal dress shirt underneath, and all the while performing a small spell that made his hands shine while doing so.

When he looked up again, he smiled slightly as his body and clothing began to change. His tail and horns disappeared, his hair went from red to blonde from the roots, and finally, the best part. He flexed his glorious wings once more as the dragon-like limbs on his back were overtaken by smooth white feathers. The halo appeared around the top of his head, and he relaxed for the first time in who-knows-how-long. The black uniform was replaced by the white one, the small tunic he was used to. He wouldn't have known what to do with himself if he couldn't see his angel self; his demon appearance was a complicated spell that changed most of his physical features, which was something that had never been done on an angel before. At least his eyes didn't change colour. And he wasn't sure he would be able to handle being struck with fear every time he so much as glanced at himself.

Despite having changed back, he noticed he retained his adapted form- he was still built with not big, but prominent muscles that outlined his figure, and with a natural defensive stance that had formed out of habit. He felt a little bit of pride as he looked over himself, knowing it might be considered vain. But he was becoming stronger! Wasn't that worth something? Puffing out his feathers a bit, he let out a deep breath as he moved with his powerful muscles, stretching himself from his arms, to his wings, to his legs. A common angelic practice, similar to that of what humans called Tai Chi.

After relaxing for a bit longer, Arthur slid off his tunic and turned, fluttering over to the bath. He could not stand cleaning himself as a demon, but he understood he ran the risk of being caught as an angel. It took about five seconds to switch from angel to demon again, so as long as he had time, he could make do. He pulled the curtain around the small area just for that purpose.

He let out a quiet hiss at the temperature of the water; it was extremely cold. His body disagreed with him greatly as he continued to walk in the water, stepping down along the cold granite. Shivers spiking along his spine, his wings jolted when they made contact with the water and he hugged his arms and shut his eyes tightly. Cold was almost unspeakably unpleasant to angels.

Arthur tried to get this done as quickly as possible. He forced himself to puff out his feathers, getting them wet, and he dunked his head beneath the surface. This didn't make it any better; he gritted his teeth underwater and shakily continued, scrubbing at his hair and his wet skin with what demons called soap. Finally, he came up with a gasp, whipping his hair back and he struggling to breathe for a moment. His eyes were wide, and he was shaking so much he had to use his wings to balance.

He couldn't take it anymore. With one flap of his wings, he tore from the water and let it splash everywhere. It dripped from his feathers and hair onto his back, and he shivered violently with his breath catching. He had to shake himself dry, and did so with a rapid spin in the air that got most of the water out of his wings, at least. Trying to calm himself, he flew back towards the marble floor, careful not to touch it, and toweled himself off before putting the tunic back on. His relief couldn't have been greater.

Upon hearing some demons outside, Arthur panicked slightly in front of the mirror, still in the air. Were they going to fly in on him? What if they had seen him?! With trembling hands, he tried to perform the switching spell as fast as he could. Luckily, he was just adjusting his dark red dress shirt when someone actually came inside.

"Good morning," he said coolly, not even looking up from the mirror as he pretended to mess with his hair, arranging it around his horns. The tip of his tail twitched like usual, and the steady beat of his wings gave him an excuse to be slightly red in the face as he hovered over the floor.

"Mm." the demon let out a grunt in greeting, and flew over to the bath. He immediately opened the curtain and let it close just as fast, and Arthur wasn't at all surprised; demons, he found, were extremely modest.

Flicking one last red lock out of his face, he blinked at himself and made sure he looked presentable before turning and leaving the room. He flew out, through the store, and into the open air that was Hell.

Maybe he'd try going into that military academy today. He'd waited long enough, and there wasn't much else he could learn about demons living in the streets. In this particular city, the majority of the demons were in some way involved with the school, and Arthur guessed it was because of the death toll during war. Demons were reckless and had no problem with risking their lives, and Arthur wished they would at least be more careful. Wait...Did he actually feel sorry for them?

Conflicted, Arthur landed on top of a tall building to sort out his thoughts. He was a spy. He was sent by the Angelicans for a mission of peace, right? So naturally he would want things to work out better for demons, if there was going to be peace at all. But as an angel, he shouldn't be so worried about them. All he was here to do was to suggest the war cease.

But...After living with them for awhile, Arthur had learnt they weren't quite the barbarians he was raised to believe they were. They weren't like angels, that was for certain. But they weren't that evil, just a little rough.

The demon in him wanted to go home. To leave these beings be, and let someone else end the war if that was what it took. But the angel in him was determined to bring this to a stop by himself, certain that he was the only one who understood the true nature of both angels and demons; he had read up quite a bit in both the species' history. The prophecy weighed on his shoulders alone, and he knew it.

But that raised another question. If this war was caused by this prophecy, what if he just went and found the second half? Wouldn't that fix everything? It sounded too simple...He knew for a fact that the angels didn't have it, at least, that was what he was told. But he doubted the demons had it either. It was too important to be a physical thing to hide, so Arthur didn't understand what either side wanted. Wasn't it a truth you had to discover within yourself? Just like the first half, it had been written down but only after God had proclaimed it. If demons cried, they would die. If angels raged, they would die. Everyone knew that.

This got Arthur thinking harder, and he sat down on the edge of the building, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. When angels cried, their tears had the power to heal. In heaven, most of the time angels didn't need to be healed by another angel; they could cry for a little bit, and then let the tears touch their wounds and they would be fine. Did demons have a similar thing? Obviously they couldn't cry to heal themselves. But, if angels and demons were opposites...

Arthur couldn't figure out if demons had some sort of healing trick. Maybe they raged? Well...He'd seen some pretty angry demons over the past few days(mind you nothing compared to the incident of the raging angel he'd once seen...) but it didn't seem to heal. But that was the only logical way it would work! Demon crying would result in death. Angel crying results in perfect health. Angel raging would result in death, but demon raging...

There had to be another way to figure this out. Letting out a rough sigh of irritation, Arthur sat up and looked down, his eyes narrowed and set towards the military academy below.

O~o~O


	5. Discord

O~o~O

"How has he been faring?"

"Quite well, my Lord. He is learning faster than we expected."

"Is that so?"

"Indeed. He is becoming very strong, but his mental state..."

"Yes? What of it?"

"Well, he is beginning to question himself. I am sure all do at some point in time, but he has taken to it so fast...He is beginning to find demons fascinating. I am afraid he will get to the answer he's looking for before we have fulfilled the plan; his determination is astounding."

A screen flickered on, and the soft golden light was only just visible under the light of the sun behind. The holographic form was the demon boy, and all of his troubles were easily written out by the look in his eyes.

"He is confused."

"Affirmative."

"Granted, he does know more already than we expected him to...He really is quite the clever boy." Chuckling. "He is the perfect angel. Unfortunately he is also the exact boy I needed out of my way...Too pure is his heart, sadly."

"'Unfortunately', sir...?"

"Unfortunately indeed...We are looking at his entire life history right now, and you are questioning if it is unfortunate that he is not on our side?"

"He has a very secular mind, my Lord. He would see right through your promises."

"Are you telling me that I am lying to the angels when I promise them peace?"

"N-nothing of the sort, sir! I meant about the eradication of the Demonocracy. He has no wish to harm anyone on either side, just because of the way his mind works. It is almost childish, the way he sees and treasures all life."

"Hmm..."

"My Lord?"

"He truly is a child of God, is he not...?"

"I am not following."

"The power he possesses, and the potential of the power he will one day possess...I admit, I am frightened of this young angel. He has exactly the kind of soul Our Lord wishes in all of us, because it is equal to Himself. That kind of goodness is not something to be trifled with. He has the goodness in him to love everyone, no matter what."

"Then why are you afraid?"

O~o~O

Arthur had to struggle to hide his disgust as he flew past, lest someone see.

He had been directed along a series of hallways by a demon at the front, a woman of proud stature and trained senses, he could tell. He was grateful she didn't have to lead him, because his nervousness would without a doubt be detected by her. He had to remind himself repeatedly to stay strong, even as he glided past classrooms that had merciless and uncomfortably graphic fighting.

The order had been running through his head as he flew around corners, memorising his path and keeping as close as he could to one wall. The school was quite a lot bigger than he'd originally thought. But he was confident he wouldn't get lost, not this time.

He slowed his pace as he took a spinning turn down one particular hall, and he sniffed the air, trying not to wince at the repulsive scent of demons that he had yet to get used to. Angels didn't have nearly as sensitive noses or ears like demons did, but that was because of the way demons lived, which was quite a lot like animals. For an angel such as himself, Arthur did not bear the scent of either kind in particular, and he also had an oddly strong sense of smell and hearing.

Flapping around in a small circle, Arthur tried to make sense of where he was. He was deep in the heart of the school, and he was almost certain he was near where the front lady had told him to go. Apparently this place required no registration of any kind, one would just have to show up to train and learn. How convenient, Arthur had thought, and wrinkled his nose slightly at the mere idea. They think of military training as teaching demons that their lives are expendable.

He reached a door that was tall and black, and, glancing at the ancient symbols in the ancient brick in the wall next to it, Arthur realised this was probably the room he'd been assigned to. He quickly translated the odd inscription in his head, having read up on all sorts of various dialects, and winced at the message. Just when you thought Hell couldn't get any worse, you walked into this room...

Putting on a bravely nonchalant face, he flew upwards and placed his gloved hands on the door. Whatever was beyond here would require all the demon in him, so, with a big breath, he gave a strong push.

Immediately, his mind screamed at him when he was faced with an almost invisible oncoming attacker, and he ducked before he received a fist to the face. Out of instinct, he dropped to the floor, afloat only with his wings by momentum. This would catch the other off guard and he knew it, so he latched onto the nearest wall so he could lash out and kick the offender's feet from under him.

Because of the unexpected speed, the demon did fall to the ground. "AGGH!!" he let out when he struck the hard floor, and, to Arthur's surprise, he did not make a move to get back up. Arthur's eyes were wide, both with panic and surprise, and from crouching sideways on the wall, he righted himself so he could hover just off the ground.

"S-sorry-!" he tried to apologise, but he was drowned out by a small crowd of demons erupting into laughter. He watched as the demon before him, now revealed by a little light from the room, hissed at the ground and was shaking with anger, supported only by his arms.

Looking up to observe the room, Arthur noted stone structures scattered around the room, meant to be benches that the demons sat, stood, or flew on. For a brief moment, he was afraid that everyone was completely uncivilised, even the one who he assumed was the authority figure at the front. But he was hesitant to believe that, once the laughter died down and all of the different demons stared at him with quieted amusement.

He decided it would be best to not say anything. So with a small, wry smile, he stared back at them for a moment before returning his gaze to the bigger demon on the ground before him. Edging a little closer, he peered down at him, only to be met with a fierce glare when the demon whipped his head up towards him. Automatically, Arthur wanted to return it, but instead made a straight but stern face.

"Well, Ivan was supposed to welcome you to this Hell. But I suppose you're already in it! Haha, how humiliating!" The teacher spoke up from the front, on Arthur's left, and he flashed his green eyes towards the chuckling demon. "Funny, Ivan isn't usually taken out by a small demon of your stature...But no matter! What is your name, my wicked?"

At the heavy Italian accent, Arthur blinked pleasantly, having been reminded of an acquaintance from Heaven, a sweet-spirited angel called Feliciano. "Arthur." he replied, raising his chin and pulling his arms behind his back.

"Mm..." The commander nodded thoughtfully, stroking his short beard. "Arthur, you say? You may call me Julius. And from here on out, you will be in this room to obey my orders. You will function under my command, and you will become a fighter in the army of the Demonocracy. If you don't die in here, of course."

Arthur raised a brow, and, from a trick he'd picked up on, he decided to give voice his immediate thoughts on the matter. "Does that mean I will learn to make poorly executed surprise attacks the second someone flies through the door as well?" he asked cheekily, a small grin teasing his lips.

The rest of the demons let out quiet "Oooh!'s" and giggles at the sarcastic remark, and even Julius, though the insult was directed at both him and the demon called Ivan, laughed a bit. "Of course, Arthur, but don't get carried away just yet. This is only the beginning."

His eyelids lowered. "How threatening." Arthur muttered under his breath, grinning mildly to himself. He made a move to flutter further in the room, guessing it was time to take a place within this 'other Hell.' Even he had to admit, he was eager, albeit nervous about learning about how demons handled this particular environment. It was such a transition, but he was confident he could at least survive it...But what if he didn't? He would either be eaten alive, or, based on the rather sadistic designs and sculptures around the school, he would be crushed or even stoned to death. Lovely, he thought with a grimace.

He was alerted by a general noise from the room of excitement, and, not surprisingly, just as he noticed something was happening, he felt a strong grip on both of his ankles.

Arthur glanced downwards with an unimpressed expression, meeting eyes with the violet-eyed, silver-haired demon who thought he had him. Arthur took this time to mentally assess the situation.

So, obviously, Ivan(he hesitated to think his name) thought he had him trapped. Theoretically, he couldn't fly away, because demon wings were not generally strong enough to carry the weight of another person. He wouldn't be able to land either, and they were at a slight stalemate; Ivan was holding him in position while Arthur simply maintained his steady flapping. So, technically he couldn't go anywhere. Ivan was going to yank him downwards very suddenly, judging by the distinct direction and angle he was holding him down from. That would serve as a vengeful comeback to humiliate him. That was the first purpose.

Now, if Ivan decided to take it a step further, he could also drag Arthur further down along the floor and pin him to the ground. A tad more humiliatingly impressive if he could manage it, but one would have to be sure the other couldn't simply throw him off. Arthur already had the feeling the bigger demon underestimated him, and so, with a slightly wicked grin, he thought of exactly how he would reverse their roles. He would have to use speed to his advantage once more.

Ivan merely grinned back up at Arthur, taking it as a challenge. Then, as predicted, without warning he pulled down roughly on Arthur's ankles. But, at the same time, Arthur gave all he had into flying upwards which caught Ivan by surprise when he lifted up off the ground slightly instead of coming down.

As an angel, lifting the weight of another person was nothing special, but that wasn't his aim; instead, he wanted to take advantage of his demon wings and let gravity bring him down. So he arced backwards with a mid-air somersault, and then pressed his hands down with all of his weight into Ivan's lower back. As Arthur thought, Ivan had foolishly kept a tight grip on him, which only resulted in a loud cry of pain at the sharp curve his back now took.

Ivan finally released Arthur's ankles after letting out a startled yelp when Arthur pressed harder into his back. The smaller demon was then supporting his full weight with his hands, balanced on Ivan, and then he used his wings to effortlessly flip his position. With that, his knee replaced his hands digging into Ivan's back, and before the demon beneath him could do anything, he pulled his arms behind his back and then pinned his wings down with his fists.

Arthur realised the small crowd of demons for a class had gone silent, and he glanced up in slight alarm. He realised they were all staring with wide eyes at him. Blinking somewhat cluelessly, he was suddenly afraid he'd done something wrong, and was once again back in square one. With an inward wince, he let himself feel the full force of his displacement, just like in Heaven.

He hesitated to release Ivan, hoping the shaking of his gloved hands went unnoticed; he couldn't seem to justify the way everyone was looking at him, and it frightened him. Did he commit a crime? Did he do something that horribly opposed the rules? He hoped he was the only one who could hear his heartbeat elevate.

"Are you..." began a bigger demon near him, and Arthur's heart jumped in his throat. "Like...A ninja, or something?"

A couple of others nodded in agreement. "Yea, how are you so flexible?" a female asked from his right.

"Did you see the way he flipped himself from that handstand?"

"That was savage, man. No one can destroy Ivan like that."

"How did he lift him up with just his wings?"

Arthur's shaking got worse. As he trembled, his expression went from neutral to worried, and he hugged his arms out of stress. Of course. Of bloody course he had to be the showoff, and now they all thought of him as a monster. And apparently that was a good thing. He cursed himself for his actions, from the minute he entered the room, and he came to his feet, aware of Ivan standing next to him.

The other demons thought his sudden change in attitude was bashful and shy, and that only started a whole new string of commentary. But he didn't hear them anymore, all their jeering comments and jokes and the like...He let out a rough sigh, making a pained face upon realising what he was seeming more and more like to these blithering idiots.

Having nothing better to do, Arthur thought for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose, resting his elbow in his other hand. How could he somehow magically turn the tables and become the catalyst instead of the beast? Or, if it was required, how could he get out of here?

Arthur could feel Ivan's eyes on him. He couldn't quite tell if he was being glared at, or just observed, but frankly he didn't care. He needed to think his way out of this. But, out of sheer irritation, he finally looked up, not doing very well to hide the frantic annoyance he was desperately holding back.

Ivan looked a little surprised when Arthur actually looked at him, but he didn't say anything. Perhaps he was just curious, like everyone else, and Arthur felt horrible to make him the victim of all of this. "Ivan..." he said his name slowly, and the taller, violet-eyed demon eyed him suspiciously while puffing out his chest. "I...I am truly sorry." Arthur apologised sincerely. "I have no desire to fight anyone, and-" he was cut off when he noticed the unmistakable twitch of the other's tail, and he winced. "A-and I hope this is not the way you will see me as."

The demon shook his head, and then an almost creepy smile crawled across his face. "You have forgotten where we are, comrade. What do you think we exist for?" he hissed darkly.

O~o~O

"He is getting more and more frightened."

"Indeed. He understands his mission completely, but at the same time he is hoping and wishing to find a place he belongs."

"He would look in Hell for such a place?"

"Oh yes, quite. However, he is fearful because he is worried about the inevitable conclusion, that he will never find somewhere he belongs. I almost feel sorry for him at times...We have created the perfect soldier and sent him off to complete a futile task. All he serves to do is to exist in the minds of the rest of the angels so they can have a light to hope for, but in the end that hope will turn to me."

"I have never thought of it that way, my Lord. He exists to be merely an idea."

"Yes...A glorious idea that will lead to a better future for us, even if the cost is the light going out."

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The poypule toytule saved Narnia and everyp\obe got ice cream. But then, Spiderman killed Zues with a Bat bat which triggered Ragnarok and destroyed pluto.
> 
> F.I.N"
> 
> The above was written by a friend while in the middle of the chapter :P He's a nerd XD Anyways lol so don't ask it's...Well I don't actually know what it means, so XD Hope you lot enjoyed!
> 
> ~Madz


	6. Crawling

Arthur spent most of his alone time scribbling feverishly a small notebook he kept with him, trying to cram all of this thoughts onto the tiny pages in the few hours he was able to. All the things he'd learnt, all the questions he had, what he believed he needed to do next.

Some of the pages were neatly written out, organised very nicely. Others were not, and had nearly been torn with the speed the writing took. One particular page, one that was flecked with a little bit of his blood, was written in the middle of a fight that he had thought was finished. Sometimes he would get excited about finding something out and would write it down immediately. However, most of the time, he tried to wait until the generally unspecified hours demons dedicated to sleep and free time to write anything down.

The upside about writing everything was Arthur could easily sort out his thoughts, and not have to worry about forgetting anything he had learnt. Just a quick skim of the small book and he could review everything he needed to know.

The downside was that if a demon found it, his whole mission, his whole purpose could be threatened. He had chosen to write in an old angelic dialect, one that only a few beings knew. If a demon found it, they would not be able to read it. But that didn't mean he would not get in trouble; sometimes not being able to read something made it more suspicious than being able to read the content.

Arthur was also repeatedly conflicted when he couldn't collect himself after a difficult day; he would lose himself in fights, in thinking he was taking being a demon too seriously, and in faith and his new and contrasting truths. He had yet to find out who he truly was, and he was beginning to feel lost. The skills he was displaying without meaning too, the genius tactics and knack for getting out of seemingly impossible situations, to everyone around him he was simply amazing. No one could find a way around his impeccable defense, and no one could just walk away without a scratch, either.

The demons who fought Arthur had taken to calling him Paranomia, which, as Arthur understood, meant something along the lines of lawless. The nickname had stuck, since he had a habit of not heeding what anyone told him to do. The commander would say to do something one way, and Arthur would do it completely opposite, and still manage to destroy his opponent.

Despite his rebellious spirit, the higher demons seemed to like him. Various authority figures from around the base would come in simply to observe one of his fights, which was apparently a very rare thing. A few demons he overheard mentioned things like "Looks like Paranomia's getting moved up soon.", and "Paranomia's rising up in the ranks!"

Arthur hated to admit it, but he loved this renegade persona he had. It made him feel mysterious and hard to understand, which was good for his mission. However, he still despised being the one that was respected, just because he could be violent. He decided that would be the first thing he would go about changing, should he ever manage to be successful in this impossible mission.

He had yet to hear how the angels were doing; occasionally he would hear the demons speak of battles won and lost over the past few days, but he never got much about the standings of either side. Arthur could easily use a spell to contact heaven, but he kept stalling until a time where he felt safer. However, each day was beginning to feel more dangerous than the last. He knew he had to do it soon, but he had every doubt that he could manage it without getting seen as an angel.

Arthur had to put his book down when he realised just how dead he felt; he needed sleep, and not just the petty four to six hour half-rest he was getting away with. Sleep was very important, and he was afraid of what would happen if this kept going on. Could he function without proper rest? He had no idea.

He jumped when he absentmindedly stretched his wings, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw white feathers. He hadn't switched without realising, had he?! With a glance over, he touched the bony edge of his demon wings and figured he was just hallucinating. God, he was tired. Tired to the point where he was seeing things. That wasn't good. His angel self seemed like a separate entity suddenly, like he had two sides even though he was one and the same whether he appear as an angel or a demon. Beginning to get slightly creeped out with himself, he flicked his tail in front of him just to make sure his mind wasn't messing with him.

Without meaning to, he felt himself unconsciously tuck the little journal on the inside pocket of his dress-jacket and curl up where he was sitting. Laying down, he didn't even bother with the tarp to hide himself, either out of tiredness or because he knew the effort was futile. He didn't know what he was thinking, and, as his cloudy thoughts gradually became more and more incoherent, he somehow found his way into sleep.

O~o~O

A couple of demons from his rank were being moved up, including himself. Arthur flew nervously in line down the hall, trying his hardest not to shiver at the cool temperature he wished he could get used to. He had to cross his arms just to hide his trembling gloved hands.

Looking around, he realised he was probably among the shortest of the demons around him. He found it slightly annoying because he was used to being average height, but everyone here seemed to be taller than what he was accustomed to. Maybe they were older? Age differentiation in Hell was not something that came easy to Arthur, but he still assumed to be older than at least most of them.

He was adjusting his red dress shirt underneath his jacket as they went when a loud voice came over the incessant chatter. Arthur winced at the volume, and found that despite it he still could not understand a single word being said. He knew it wasn't a different language that he didn't know, but the voice echoed over itself too much to be heard from his position. He could only guess that the voice was telling them all to halt, because the demons in front of him stopped flying forward and instead hovered above the floor.

More instructions were shouted out, and the line began to move again, but a lot more slowly than before. Now the yelling was slightly more understandable, because whoever was shouting was announcing what Arthur could only guess to be names.

It was not long before Arthur was faced with the doorway, a giant silver arch decorated quite grotesquely with lots of sadistic imagery. Arthur winced, and desperately hoped it wasn't noticed by the others surrounding him. For some reason he couldn't take his eyes off the sculpture, each little carving in the dulled metal depicting shrieking angels being ripped apart by demons with insane grins, angels being burned alive, angels scarred beyond recognition, angels hit with their own arrows...Arthur made himself squinch his eyes shut when he saw a particularly disturbing one that looked like a young angel being forced to carry the weight of the Earth, and he was breaking under the pressure with demons below the image waiting to consume his soul.

"Ah, this must be the one everyone is fussing over. Paranomia."

Arthur's eyes flickered open, and he glanced upwards to see two rather big and frightening demons looming over him. Their presence was so imposing and ominous that Arthur couldn't help but feel like he was shrinking under their cold stares. "Y-yes?" he asked quietly, and jolted when they began laughing loudly.

These must be the demons who had given them orders in the first place; he could vaguely recognise the deep, booming voice of the one on the left. "Paranomia," he chuckled. "Such an unruly name! Surely it couldn't fit such a scrawny runt!"

Slightly offended, Arthur crossed his arms with a huff. "Well, it had to have been given to me for a reason," he countered bravely, however not meaning to blurt it out so abruptly.

This caused another fit of laughter, and, glancing inside, Arthur realised it was making demons from in the room to look over curiously. Out of frustration he glared at the two demons before him.

"We'll have to see about that," the demon on his right said, cocking a brow. "You'll be tested far more extensively than you have been. Better hope you can live up to that title!"

He was patted on the back so forcefully that he was practically pushed and made to flutter in the room. He had to flap his wings slightly harder to catch his balance, and let out a low growl in annoyance. He grumbled angrily under his breath, smoothing down the front of his uniform a little roughly. He certainly hoped for a chance to show that demon up and strip him of all honour, even if it meant waiting to prove himself.

Realising he was getting caught up in his demon self again, Arthur finally made a move to go further in the room. He was met with a large variety of looks from the others, ranging from confused, amused, bemused, and even enthused. Letting out a sharp breath, almost a hiss, he met their stares with a snarl. "What are you lot bloody looking at?"

Some of the demons looked excitedly at one another, and others looked genuinely surprised and immediately averted their eyes. He heard a distinct whisper ring out; "That's Paranomia! He's supposed to be super tough."

"Better not bloody forget it," he muttered irritably to himself, flying over to the nearest corner of the room to perch on a bench. He didn't know how the others could be so comfortable; it was very cold. Colder than usual. Shivering and balancing on the edge of his little stone seat, he observed the room as quickly as he could with a fleeting gaze.

The room was very big, bigger than he'd thought. He could barely see the top because it was up so high, in fact, he wasn't sure if there was actually a ceiling or not. The light in the room, just like all the rest of the rooms at the military base, was made by candles. The small flickering flames were arranged in a row of the small wax sticks, spiraling up and around the wide room much like a staircase along the wall. Candles were still a little entrancing to Arthur, he had to admit. Back in heaven there was so much natural light, there wasn't any need for something like a candle. Their tiny but powerful little lights reminded of the stars he used to gaze at, when he could see the sky above the clouds...

He pulled himself out of his reminiscing thoughts when he heard a shout. Looking up, he watched the two authoritative demons from before fly in the centre of the room. It took him a moment to recognise what the words were, and his eyes widened in realisation.

"EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!!"

One of them gave a powerful flap with his wings, and with a rapid breeze that even reached towards the uppermost places of the room, the candles were all put out.

The room was completely black.

Arthur rolled his eyes, crossing his arms when he heard screams of alarm.

"First challenge! Be the last demon standing!" roared the other higher demon. "Good luck on that! Buahahaha!"

Immediately there were shrieks of pain when the other thirty-some-odd demons began to attack one another. There weren't any that Arthur could hear in his vicinity, but he still had to be careful. He didn't do as well as he wanted to in the dark, so he figured his best option was to hide and not make a sound. He refused to take part in a fight. So, with as much grace as he could, he felt around below himself to inch underneath the stone bench he had been perched on top of.

It took a lot of self restraint to prevent himself from using his magic. Angels knew many different spells to produce lots of bright light, but that would be a bad thing if he did that. Demons could use minor spells sometimes as well, but magic took a lot more out of them than it did angels. And he wasn't about to blow his cover.

Something made a scuttling sound to his left and he jumped in surprise, letting out a quiet hiss when he hit his head on the lower part of the bench. At the noise, something growled, and Arthur's eyes widened. He had no idea what to do.

Looking around blindly, he felt around him for something, anything. He wondered if demons had a form of night vision that allowed them to see better in the dark, because everyone else seemed to be navigating around even in the air just fine. From what he could hear, anyways.

Because he couldn't see anything, the sense of panic was making blood roar in his ears. Arthur tried to calm down and remember what the room looked like before the lights had been blown out, slowly feeling his way up along another bench and trying to pinpoint exactly what his position was. He let his eyes slide closed, since sight wasn't really an option, and tried listening to the loud surroundings instead of being continually alarmed by everything he couldn't see.

It was working; he could feel his heart calming in his chest little by little, and he realised he had been holding his breath. Carefully releasing it as quietly as he could, he flicked his tail and continued his path onwards, which was mostly sideways to his right where he thought he remembered the nearest wall, so he could press up against to find some sense of place and balance.

Something brushed against one of his horns, and he reeled back, almost biting himself with his fangs. Luckily it wasn't enough to be heard when he slipped a little, since some demon from across the room screamed at the same time, but the sensation that something was this uncomfortably close made Arthur feel almost nauseous with fear.

"Who's there?" whispered a soft voice directly in front of him. Arthur somehow found consolation in the fact that they sounded about as frightened as he was. He decided against answering; there were too many directions it could go if he did. Instead, he slowly backed away, being very careful to not make a sound. He reached a hand back, delicately stepping away with the utmost care despite how his conscious strongly wished to flee at full speed.

His face twisted in desperation when he heard what he assumed to be a male demon slither closer. Eyes shutting even tighter, he tried to match their movements and disguise himself under the noise they were making. He tried very hard not to breathe too loudly , and concentrated on moving smoothly across the marble floor.

He let out a quiet gasp when his back hit the wall, but it wasn't loud enough to be heard. Then he winced when the movement of the other demon also stopped, and tried creeping noiselessly to his right along the wall. The clawed tip of his left wing almost brushed up against it, so he folded his wings as close to his back as they would go and ignored the tensed muscles in his back at the action. Determined to not let himself be known, he continued as carefully as he could. Luckily, he heard the demon go the other way.

The cries and shouts from various places around the room were beginning to lighten up, and Arthur shuddered when he wondered what had happened to those who were no longer fighting. Gruesome images spotted his mind's eye, and he bit his lip in anxiety, struggling to keep calm.

Arthur was startled badly when there was a shriek not very far from him, and, judging by the direction it came from, it was from the demon that he had been avoiding moments before. His breathing accelerating and his movements sped up a little. He began shaking. The angel knew needed to be able to see if he was going to get out of this.

No. No, he couldn't think that way. Letting his head rest against the wall for a brief moment, he regained his bearings and wracked his brain for what he could do. If he recalled correctly, along the series of candles that spiraled to the ceiling were small podiums that actually supported the arrangement on the wall. They were barely big enough to support someone, and the memory was a little fuzzy with panic. But he couldn't stop now. He quickly caught his breath, and turned his body to face the wall.

Ascension would be...problematic. He knew that he could lift himself easily, but the demon wings forced a lot out of him. There were more wing beats involved and being quiet would make him breathless...more facts and thoughts he couldn't deal with at the time. Brushing away all doubt, he carefully began to scale the smooth marble wall.

He let his fingers slide along the wall as he went up so he wouldn't miss the pedestal, and so he wouldn't stray away from it. Gritting his teeth, he flapped his wings with as much power as he could get through silence.

Arthur's hand danced across something, and he quietly gasped for air to keep up with his wings. Grasping the object cautiously, he recognised the soft cylindrical shape through his gloves was most likely a candle, and below it was the intricate iron designs that it was stuck on. Now he just had to fly along the wall to follow the unlit candles until he found what he was looking for.

It took longer than he expected. He lashed his tail out for balance when his wing nearly got caught on the metal he was clinging to. There was a quiet scraping noise, but it was not heard because there were still active demons making a lot more noise.

At one point he had to stop, or risk falling. So he brought his boots to the wall, resting on the balls of feet, and latched tightly on the iron. His arms burned from having to support his whole weight, but it was just until he was recovered enough to fly. He let his boots slide down the wall, but only brought them back up again, and it managed to distract him while he caught his breath.

When he was finally alright, the room had gotten even quieter, and he was covered only by occasional shouts. It wasn't long after that, despite it. He soon found the shelf.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he hoisted himself on top of it, feeling around the nicked surface and determining just how much room he had when he finally could get to his feet. It wasn't terribly small, and Arthur decided he could crouch on it. So, lowering himself so he balanced like a gargoyle, he decided to remain there for as long as it took.

The room was still echoing with cries of pain, and Arthur, while trying to bring his mind back to a serene state, couldn't help but pity those who were injured, or worse...He didn't dare think anyone was dead. He would panic.

Nevertheless, the room was soon silent. Not even a whimper could be heard, and Arthur didn't know what this meant. Had everyone beaten themselves? What of the last demon that remained? It couldn't possibly be him, could it?

A million questions zoomed around in his mind before anything actually happened. There was dual flapping noises, as if two demons had entered. Guessing it was the two from earlier, he waited. Eyes still closed, he tilted his head towards the noise.

"Who's returned from the dead?" was the strange question that rang around the room. "Who remains?"

Arthur blinked in surprise when there was a powerful burst of light from below, and the candles began lighting up from the bottom. Magic, he realised with his eyes wide in wonder. He ignored the pain in his eyes having to adjust, as well as several groans in protest from everyone else. The room was slowly lit up once more, and, tearing his gaze away from the two big demons, he recoiled in near horror. Blood was everywhere, and the demons had been scattered, thrown, hurled into their position. None of them appeared strong enough to stand, and Arthur had to turn away at the sight of all the injuries. He looked down at his shirt, eyes squinched shut and willed the sight out of his head.

"Ah, so there is one! I suppose you wouldn't have fallen. But I do wonder..." Below, Arthur forced an eye open to see that there was, in fact, one who still stood. He had just been behind a tall pillar. Now he was approaching the front of the room very slowly. Arthur let out a slightly strangled cough, suddenly feeling the urge to vomit. His hands gripped the stone he crouched on tighter, as if he was afraid he was going to lose his balance.

The attention turned to him. "There is a challenger." one confirmed, and the other nodded, beckoning the nauseous angel.

His breath became weaker in terror. Now they were going to make him fight. Doing what he could to swallow the disgusting feeling in his throat, he pulled himself over the front edge of the pedestal and dove downwards. He opened his wings to land when he got close enough, and stumbled to make a not-so-graceful landing.

"Paranomia!" he was greeted when the two authority figures recognised him, and he glanced upwards, brows creased in worry. He met the harsh look of a pretty battered demon he didn't recall seeing before. He had very dark eyes, scratches and deep gashes all over his body, and hair the colour of caramel. Immediately feeling intimidated, Arthur took a step back. "Tell me, Paranomia. How did you manage to remain unscathed? Everyone else is injured and hurt, but not you. Did you heal yourself?" Arthur realised the one who was speaking was genuinely at a loss.

Raising his chin, he shook his head weakly, and drew in a sharp breath. "I did not fight." he spoke through gritted teeth.

He was met now with three separate confused stares. He didn't want to, but Arthur knew he had to clarify. "I...I chose not to fight. The instructions were to be the last demon standing. There is no place in that statement that declares I must fight. So I did not."

"Coward." hissed the demon across from him, and Arthur glared at him.

"We shall see about that," he muttered to him, then turned back to the two large commanders. He hinted at a smirk when they seemed to be thinking over what he'd said, that he was right and they had made a flaw. It didn't matter whether he lost now or not, he was right. He was absolutely right, and they couldn't do a bloody thing about it. Adrenaline was kicking in, finally, and he cracked his knuckles with his smirk widening. The sick feeling was going away, dumbed down over the confident and invincible feeling he was now getting. "Well? What now? Are we going to fight, or are you all spent?" he taunted daringly.

The demon before him growled and got into a defensive position. The commanders were finally able to wrap their minds around what just happened and backed out of the way, waiting for the impending battle with watchful eyes.

Arthur braced himself when the demon charged while yelling loudly and taking flight. Waiting and timing it just right, Arthur simply took a step to the left and the demon completely missed him. In fact, he nearly crashed into the wall far behind him. When he was able to turn around, Arthur flashed him a pleasant grin that only broadened when the demon flew towards him again. He flexed his wings very suddenly and launched himself upwards, catching his opponent off guard. At first the other tried to tackle Arthur, but Arthur twirled around in mid-air so he evaded all attempts to be touched. By then it was a matter of being faster; all it took to bring him down was a sharp turn and a heel to the wing.

Crying out in pain, the other demon was sent spinning and crash landed, skidding aways along the floor. He let out a choked cry of pain because he managed to hit all of the larger injuries in the process.

Arthur couldn't help the concern and regret for what he'd done. But, he knew he couldn't exactly show it. He fluttered to him anyway, crawling over the pained demon and putting a hand under his jaw to check exactly where he'd been hurt. He felt bad when the demon flinched at his touch, and willed himself to keep going and not back down. He couldn't just yet.

Unable to look at what Arthur was doing because of the fingers that gently pressed his chin up, the demon could only hiss and yelp as Arthur prodded him in various places. He might've figured this was punishment, or something along those lines, and Arthur understood that a demon's modesty probably made it very uncomfortable to be touched. Angels didn't have such modesty.

He winced at a particularly deep gash, and was careful not to touch it. The demon was getting restless beneath him, nervous and frightened probably, and he began to squirm weakly. "Relax," Arthur sighed quietly, not caring that everyone's eyes were on him now. "I'm not going to hurt you." it was the angel in him speaking now, and he moved aside, retracting his fingers from the demon's neck, but the hand remained extended towards him.

The demon looked up at his warm smile with fear, and hesitated before taking his hand. He stood and pulled the demon to his feet, letting him stumble into Arthur for support because he could barely hold his weight. Practically carrying the other demon, Arthur started towards the exit of the room, not even looking at the commanders.

"I'm taking him to the infirmary." was all he said. He didn't care that he had no idea where such a place was. But he was going there.

O~o~O

After he was done writing the day's events in his journal, Arthur flung it across to the other wall of the alleyway out of frustration. He had not yet found out anything he really wanted to know, just things that he probably should. And it was grinding on his nerves.

He tugged at his hair, growling lowly to himself and watching the rain hit the wooden crate he was sitting cross legged on. It was fascinating, for some reason that he couldn't quite pin, and he looked up at the sky. He still really liked rain. It seemed to be the only thing that comforted him now, not even the thought of home warmed his heart like it used to. It had become a cold place, not welcoming or inviting to him. It tore him up a little on the inside, and those were wounds that would not heal.

His heritage was in his blood. All his old ideals and beliefs still existed, but they were gradually becoming overwhelmed by what he was discovering about all of winged-kind. He didn't feel like an angel anymore, and he wasn't exactly proud of where he came from. The angel suddenly became a disease, a plague that crawled around inside him, waiting to strike.

His entire world that he knew was tearing apart. He hated it, he never hated something so strongly before. Expanding his horizons was proving to be almost impossible, but he had no choice but to keep going. He had to do this on his own.

Arthur just wanted to be happy again. He leaned forward a little to look down at a puddle below the tall crate. He saw a distorted image of himself; red hair plastered to his head, dulled and sad green eyes, pale skin, jagged wings...Without thinking, he wove his hands together to do the switching spell. He looked at his angel self with a little more hope, and stretched his white wings, flinging blonde hair from his face. He was a more vibrant being when he was an angel. But he had a feeling, a sickening, terrifying, dreadful feeling in his stomach that it wasn't true. Angels weren't what he thought they were.

Discouraged, he switched back and turned to lie on his side. He curled up in a small circle, and sadly gazed at the ground. He suddenly felt inexplicably lonely.

O~o~O

"Sir...You've been observing him for weeks now. I believe you should rest."

"I cannot now, not when my little angel is slowly growing to be more and more...beautiful."

"Beautiful...?"

"You ask many questions. However you must understand that I care not if it may seem that I am...obsessed with this child. He has become so much more than I thought, and I...I hunger for when the morn comes that I can watch his downfall. He invigorates me. I want to know what is next as he continues."

"It is not my place to say so, my Lord, but I am worried about you."

With that, the younger archangel left the dim room, lit only by flickering filmic images of the Bereft scattered around the space.

Who really cares anymore? Who restrains?

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! :) This chapter was called Crawling, which is also a Linkin Park song that I absolutely adore the concept of. The way I hear this song, Arthur is talking to himself as two separate beings, the angel and the demon. He is slowly feeling the difference between the two, like he isn't one anymore. This feeling is slowly crushing him and he is afraid of the future. It could go either way, either it is the angel crawling in his skin, or the demon. Maybe even a mixture of both. He is (metaphorically) forced to his knees, forced to crawl along just to get where he needs to go, and he desperately wants to get back on his feet and face things head-on.
> 
> I'm sorry for the delay :P School just let out about two weeks ago and then my birthday happened and things of the like ^^ Muse's Drones came out :D In fact, I had to rearrange my story a bit because some of those songs are definitely going to be in the Messenger, which is exciting, although it took a little bit of time.
> 
> About Muse and Linkin Park; I hope one day either band could read this ^^ I would like Mr. Bellamy and Mr. Bennington to know what they have inspired in me, and maybe in you too :)
> 
> I think I'm supposed to do a disclaimer? Yea, I don't own Hetalia, it's characters, or this au. I also do not in any way own Muse, and I do not own Linkin Park. I take no credit for anything I make use of from any of them, all of that work belongs to their respective owners. I also don't own any of the religious references I make.
> 
> Anyway, uh, thank you for reading :)) Now I'm off to continue listening to Drones for the fifty-billionth time because it's amazing like oh mY STARS go check it out :D
> 
> ~Madz


	7. Somewhere I Belong

Arthur was beginning to get suspicious.

Something was wrong. So wrong, in fact, he could feel it in his chest when he woke the next morning. The feeling was unfamiliar, but, strangely, he had an idea of what it was. It was like someone had died.

Eyes flickering open, he slowly pushed himself up and ignored the soreness of sleeping on such a hard surface. It had stopped raining, he noticed when he looked up. He rubbed the back of his head and stretched his wings and arms before yawning and sliding off the crate.

He still hadn't gotten enough sleep. He could tell by the intense craving he had for soft, warm clouds, plenty of sunlight, and cute, fluffy sky creatures to cuddle with. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Arthur imagined just how nice a gentle touch would feel. He hadn't felt anything of the like for so long...

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he suddenly remembered the events of his previous waking hours. That other demon who he'd fought...Arthur had frightened him badly in trying to help. He remembered very vividly the face of terror he'd made as Arthur observed his wounds, and had waited for the worst. But he did not expect an act of kindness, and Arthur wondered if he himself only behaved that way because it was truly what he would have wanted. He would have wanted help.

Arthur smiled wryly at himself. Of course he was thinking that. He was an angel, after all. It was the defining rule of all religions; "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," "Treat not others in ways that you yourself would find hurtful," "Do not do unto others whatever is injurous to yourself..." he could go on, because he was taught every single golden rule. They were all the same.

He sighed. However much it hurt his conscious, he knew he couldn't do anything like that anymore. The demons were probably already suspecting things about him. He had to wait until he had a bigger influence on the city.

Something caught Arthur's gaze, and, looking over, Arthur realised it was the journal he'd hurled last night. It had fallen in between the grey brick wall and another crate, which was probably why it didn't look like anyone had been through it. Stalking over to it, Arthur snatched it from the ground and dusted it off thoroughly before putting it back in its rightful place in the inside pocket of his black military jacket. Then, after doing one last survey of his little space, he spread his black bat-like wings and took off towards the base.

As he flew along the weaving and complicated alleyways, he actually gave a little bit of thought to his wings. After looking at some of the ghastly pairs some of the others had, he realised his didn't look too grotesque. Compared to those with extremely knobby joints, jagged bones, and sharp claws, at least. Some demons were lucky to have symmetrical wings at all, and Arthur had to wonder if it was because it was how they were born or if they had just been mauled in harsh battles. Shuddering a little, Arthur fluttered a little closer to the ground. These violent thoughts were making him nervous.

After he swerved neatly past a group of demons headed elsewhere, Arthur's stomach growled a little, and the angel remembered he had not eaten in a couple of days. But he couldn't exactly do anything about it; the only food he'd managed to get at all was purely off of fighting bets because he had no way of getting the money, nor the guts and right of mind to steal. Great, not only was he under rested, but now he was malnourished as well. Just lovely.

He looked guiltily ahead and clutched weakly at his stomach as he went. 'In heaven, no one ever knew what hunger was or what fatigue felt like,' he thought miserably.

Before he got to the base, he took a quick detour to wash off at the same bath he'd been going to for awhile, but got done quickly and kept going. He didn't know whether to look forward to it or not, and he wondered if that demon from earlier would come after him. After all, he did just carry him to the infirmary, set him down, and leave. Arthur had no idea if it was what he should have done at all. In fact, he hardly knew if anything he did was right, considering the fact he was completely new to everything that was demon. With a sigh, he came to the conclusion that he might never assimilate and be able to blend in.

It didn't seem like that long when he finally glided into the large cylindrical room again, mostly because he was lost in thought. There were more demons than there were yesterday, and it appeared as if no one had noticed him. So he snuck back to the bench he had chosen before, and sat himself neatly down to wait for something to happen.

He found the demon with the caramel hair rather quickly. Spying him from across the room, Arthur smiled slightly when he realised he didn't look angry at all, rather, he was laughing with a couple of what Arthur assumed were friends. That was good, at least he was enjoying himself. And no one was wounded anymore, much to the angel's relief. Although for the life of him, he could not seem to figure out how demons healed themselves.

Arthur stared at the floor in thought, wondering how he would react if anyone tried to talk to him about their previous encounter. He was sat comfortably on top of the bench, one knee up with his arm resting on it, and despite how cold it was, he felt oddly at ease here.

There was suddenly a presence next to him.

"Ivan," he muttered out loud without thinking. Eyes flickering up, he caught the stare of the demon, who flashed him a creepy grin. "You got moved up as well, I see."

"Yes, I did, Paranomia." Ivan nodded to him. "Aside from that, I have heard a lot about your little feat yesterday, and normally I would not consider such a thing. But I wanted to warn you that the commanders will not so easily be taken for fools next time."

Arthur immediately sat upright and turned to face Ivan, eyes wide. At his reaction, the demon let out a wry chuckle and sat down on the bench across from him. He took Arthur's silence as a cue to continue, and brought his fist up to rest his chin on. "They will do everything they can to break you. I have heard them speaking of it, and it does not ring well with the ears, comrade. They do not like your kind, only because everyone else does. Phobos and Deimos do not take well to..." he looked Arthur over. "...Prodigies."

Taken slightly aback, Arthur frowned at the taller demon. "...Why are you telling me this?" it was the only sensible question out of many that flew about his mind. If anything, the only thing he could guess was that Phobos and Deimos were the two commander's names. Perhaps they were brothers...Arthur recalled the two names in a human myth, and they meant Fear and Panic. Ah. Lovely.

Ivan's stare was unreadable. It appeared caught somewhere between cold and apathetic. But there was something about his manner, something about all his little movements and even just his posture that suggested he didn't feel so. "You make for a peculiar one, Paranomia. But you are powerful, I will give you that. I would rather stand beside you than against you." the demon looked off to the side as if irritated, and crossed his arms.

Arthur, however, was unable to keep back a small smile. Perhaps he was getting somewhere after all? He had no idea, but if anything, Ivan had offered hope.

"Pathetic little deilόs! I bring news!" announced a loud voice, and Arthur recognised it as one of the two commanders. He turned to face the two, looking at their military uniforms and their faces to try and distinguish one from the other.

Of all times, he got that feeling again. The same dread he'd felt earlier when he had woken up. Eyes widening, Arthur leaned forward a bit and gripped the hem of his uniform tightly, training his gaze on the demon who spoke. He felt an overwhelming grief like someone had died, only he had somehow forgotten who and the sadness had lost its purpose...He recalled seeing angels in this state after losing someone close to them.

"The angels have attacked! They came in without warning when all was silent and ravaged our sleeping army! There is no time to wait, we must train every demon at this base to be ready for war!" Arthur's eyes widened in shock. It couldn't be..."They are growing in numbers and power and another attack is imminent! From here on, training is to be taken seriously!"

Arthur had covered his head with his hands without realising. They have no reason to attack, not while I'm here! Camael said he would halt all offensive war efforts to not risk my getting in the way! What is going on?! Arthur began mumbling quiet questions to himself, not realising he was shaking.

"Paranomia." said a soft voice. Arthur gave a nod to acknowledge that he'd heard, and was unable to do much else. "Paranomia, are you alright? You do not look so good, comrade." It was Ivan, of course. Strangely, genuine concern laced his voice.

Trying to ignore the clenching of his heart that nearly brought tears to his eyes, Arthur licked his lips and tried to come up with a plausible story to explain himself. "S-someone I knew was involved in the attack," he said weakly. Still as angelic as ever, he couldn't bring himself to lie.

"Ah, I see." Arthur almost jumped when Ivan suddenly patted his back. "I feel for your loss. But this is not the time for grief, Paranomia. We must prepare so we can fight the angelicans."

Arthur couldn't be sure if that was an act of kindness or not. Regardless, he sheepishly straightened himself out and pulled himself together with a brave breath. "Indeed," he agreed, unable to hide the shame in his expression.

The demons in the room were soon all called close to the commanders. In a circle around them, they both explained the exercise they would be doing, how it was expected to be done, and what it could be used for. It was quite an unoriginal tactic in Arthur's eyes, at least, from how it would theoretically play out. It was a simple way of disabling an enemy, but Arthur had to hold back many tuts and scoffs at their idea of restraining an angel by its wings. He seemed to be the only one that understood that the span and strength of their wings were too much to immobilise his kind.

The idea and way of pulling it off were simple enough. Although Arthur wanted to add his own little spin on some of the mechanics of it, he felt it could be rather effective on a demon. Which happened to be exactly how they were going to practice; sparring between a couple of demons each. Immediately, the others began to break off into groups, and Arthur thought he should probably do that too.

Without even looking, he knew Ivan had appeared by his side. "You ready to have some fun?" he asked tauntingly.

"This time it will be you on the floor writhing in pain." Ivan hissed back with a good-natured grin.

The two turned and were about to head back towards Arthur's now apparently designated spot. It seemed so, since none of the others seemed to even want to go near either of them. Arthur was about to voice that thought out loud when another demon fluttered in front of them. Arthur recognised him as the one he'd fought yesterday.

"Oh! Uh...You are..." Arthur began awkwardly, noting the shamed look the other one seemed to have and how he refused to meet Arthur's eyes.

After a small moment of silence, Ivan elbowed Arthur a little roughly. "He is requesting Opia, Paranomia." At Arthur's obviously confused look, he rolled his eyes. "Permission to look you in the eye? Acknowledgement of respect? What, do you live under a rock?"

"Maybe I do," Arthur defended. "I'm not from around here."

Ivan looked genuinely surprised. "Ah-Y-you..." he decided not to question it further and let out a small sigh. "Opia is a sign of respect and trust. It is something earned and not easy to come by. If I were you, I wouldn't miss this chance." Ivan had no trace of a lie in his voice. Arthur knew well that demons did not hesitate to lie, but it did not appear that there was much reason to lie to one of their own kind.

He was still thinking over Ivan's words. Did that mean this demon wanted to be friends with him? Arthur wouldn't want to pass up that either, considering that he needed allies. Maybe this was the key to the mission the angels had put on him, to get others on his side. Arthur had to force down all of the questions he had regarding which side he was actually on, and focus on what was at hand. "Alright," he said slowly. "How do I, um..." he gestured awkwardly in front of him.

Ivan now seemed vaguely amused with his lack of knowledge, and Arthur was relieved he didn't seem that suspicious. "Offer your hands to him. If he truly respects you, he will meet your eyes. If not, he might kill you."

Arthur stopped dead. "Wh-what?"

"Don't question an old tradition, Paranomia! Just do it!" Ivan snapped.

"A-alright!" Arthur panicked and held out his hands to the demon. "Alright, I, um..." he looked up, trying to meet the demon's gaze. He watched as the demon slowly reached up and rested his palms in Arthur's, and let his hands weigh down on his for a brief moment before finally taking a big breath and looking up.

Arthur was met with the same eyes he saw yesterday, dark and brooding, but protective. From his distance yesterday, and from lack of observation, the angel had not realised his eyes were so green. His horns were a little longer than Arthur's, and his wings looked rough around the edges. The somewhat long caramel hair was still distinct on him, especially to Arthur because he knew of many angels similar by appearance.

"What is your name?" he asked with a slight smile, trying to come off as friendly.

"...My name is Basch." the demon replied quietly, finally relaxing a bit.

His hands were released from their loose and quite harmless death trap, and Arthur nervously ran a hand through his red hair, careful to avoid his own horns. "Well, Basch, it would seem as if you've joined this little cult. I suppose we have to get busy with what the commanders want."

"Yea, we do." Basch glanced at Ivan. "He has earned your respect as well?"

Arthur opened his mouth to say no, thinking Basch meant Opia. But Ivan beat him to it. "Yes, Paranomia has my admiration as well. I choose to follow him because he is easily the most powerful demon in this room and because I believe there is something greater at work here."

Well, that didn't make any sense. Basch seemed to understand, but Arthur was at a complete loss. He wished he had thoroughly gone through what exactly demons believed in and worshipped, and made a note to look for a library to find out. The only word that seemed to connect was Fate, and Arthur still didn't quite understand the concept of that.

Despite that, he wasn't complaining. It was the first time he had people on his side in too long.

It was no surprise that Arthur had managed to defeat both Ivan and Basch, even when they teamed up together against him. He would never understand the mindset they had, the mentality that only deepened their respect for him. Arthur found himself caught up in bittersweet moments when he would watch their faces twist in pain, but then look up at him with eyes shining with silent reverence after a duel. It was contradicting in too many ways for Arthur to even begin to fathom how they felt so content being hurt while honouring him.

Beating them was almost to easy. Arthur cursed himself for every blow he brought upon the two demons.

Over the next couple of what Arthur hoped were days, Phobos and Deimos(who'd begun to act somewhat like dogs towards him) made the routines tougher and tougher to match. Despite what they'd said about training a whole army, Arthur had the suspicion that it was just him they were after. Not good. The entire military base was beginning to make him feel like he was back where he started, when he was barely getting by and only just able to defend himself.

They were determined to break him, that was for sure. Arthur feared it would work. But, he was also starting to get support. The she-demon from the bath he went to began to offer him a piece of bread every time he came by, saying she'd heard of him. Back at his little territory, no one ever came by anymore. And in the base, he had earned even more respect than before and soon had almost a quarter of the demons in the room who stood by his side. Some had migrated over to his place in the room, and others just appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Their company was oddly comforting.

At the same time, it made him itch. They all liked him. Loved him, for the same reason. He had defeated them all at some point, and this violence was tearing him apart. This wasn't in his nature! He was defying every single piece of himself little by little, and he wondered if he was even an angel anymore. He would switch back and forth just to make sure, but then on some days he would despise his angel heritage and not want to look at himself. He didn't know what was good anymore. Arthur didn't recall a time when he'd been this uncomfortable.

He knew if his destiny never crossed with the prophecy so closely, he would most likely end up serving God's army anyway, but that would have been when he was older and more prepared for his duties.

Phobos and Deimos were infuriated by the fact they still hadn't managed to break him. Arthur could tell they felt like they were running out of options, and might be pushed to take harsh extremes to get what they wanted; a tame and disciplined warrior. They couldn't break him in every man for himself. They couldn't break him in two-person teams. They couldn't break him in one-on-one-back-to-back. Arthur had no idea what was next, but he was worn. Even the flight to the base was slowly becoming a problem because he would flutter in panting.

This day, he was certain he was going to lose a battle. He could feel it when he gazed at the moon just before he went inside, how tired and done he was. He refused to be submissive to the demons, but he was going to lose something. And that worried him.

Basch was waiting for him near his spot. The demon with the Swiss accent nodded as Arthur stumbled in, and purposefully got up and sat next to Arthur to enjoy their comfortable silence they often shared. That was the entirety of their relationship, one unlike anything Arthur had at Heaven. It was foreign to him, but he still liked it. They served as silent pillars for one another.

The room was practically divided completely when the others showed up. There was Arthur's little corner(Not to say that the room was round so there were no actual "corners") where his group of allies were, and then everyone else. Phobos and Deimos seemed to want to keep it that way as they flew in, sealing the boundary.

This piqued the interest of his group, and the demons came up beside Arthur, ever faithful.

"We have noticed how divided you are as an army!" Deimos announced. Arthur was glad he'd finally figured out the difference between the two. "At first, we were determined to change that, since such a stance is not acceptable when battling the Angelicans. But, instead we decided to experiment!"

Phobos flew forth. "See as you are now! There is a group of old friends that remain loyal to each other!" Arthur noticed some of the demons near him flinched at the word "loyal." He didn't want to question it. "And then, we have a lesser group lead by Paranomia!" he almost spat his name, and aimed his glare right at Arthur.

Arthur returned the expression, wrinkling his nose and making it clear how he despised this.

"The solution is obvious, yes? The two groups simply fight!" Deimos sneered at them all. "Rules are different, however. You cannot touch the floor and you can only use the wall to rest. Are we clear?!"

Arthur finally stood, walking forward. So this was how he was going to lose. He refused to go down without a fight, and hated himself as these angry thoughts progressed. "Aye, sir." he hissed lowly. The others made general noises of understanding, and both the commanders backed up to the edge of the cylindrical room.

He could feel his blood burning with anticipation, so much so that he didn't even hear the commanders indicate the start. All he knew was that in a blur of grey and black, he was up and circling around the demons from the opposite group, who were organising themselves.

The wisest thing to do, his personal rule in any battle, was to let the opponent take the first move. He felt sick at the sudden thrill that engulfed his being when the entire group surrounded him, probably in the hopes of overwhelming him. No such luck for them; two demons came at him reluctantly, and they were quickly sent crashing to the floor far below.

That was when the team of foes decided to make smarter choices in facing Paranomia, who's glare seemed to strike fear into all of them. They began coming at him in three's, in four's, and not yet realising that it took more than that to take him down.

Arthur didn't know what possibly gave him the strength to hurl the demons into the walls and kick them down. Adrenaline? Probably, but it didn't feel like he was fighting at all, instead it was more of an autopilot reaction to the enemies around him. He couldn't even gauge how badly he was injuring them...The frustration was fueling him to carry on from there, almost crying out with every hit.

He wanted to stop. Every fibre of his being wished to mend the damage, to halt this senseless fight, to take even just one hit. His mind had lost control of his body, however, and he was disgusted with the willingness of which he continued to carry on. He dodged and blocked with ease, and landed blows too strong to counter and too fast to avoid. He was a monster. He was hurting them. He was maiming them. He was mutilating them.

Killer.

The word flashed over his mind over and over again, and he lashed out blindly. Was he killing them?! He didn't know! He felt the unmistakable feeling of hollowness gouge him out, and he didn't think he ever hated himself so much before. Out of sheer rage, his fist met with someone's head and they were knocked out instantly. He didn't even have to look at some of the demons; he could take out one of them with just his tail.

I'm a killer. I am a psycho killer.

Over the heads he was surrounded by, Arthur caught a glimpse of a couple of different demons fighting, and was confused. Surely he would have been the ideal target.

He slipped up. One more time, killer blinded his mind's eye, and he missed a punch.

The next thing he knew, he was seeing stars and flying upside down. That wasn't right. He was strangely calm until he realised he was falling, and the tornado of demons above had gone after someone else. He couldn't breathe. He panicked, and couldn't make himself fly because he was falling too fast; his wings were paralysed out of terror. This was an angel's greatest fear, and his worst nightmare. Arthur knew this was the end. This was how all the angels went if they messed up. They fell.

He shut his eyes tightly. I am going to die a psycho killer.

Arthur was disoriented once more, when something from above barreled into him. He was almost certain his brain was knocked out of place from the sheer force he had taken, and was dizzy from the sudden change in direction. Was he spinning now? What was direction? He could no longer tell if he was upside down or not.

Finally landing on something firm nearly made him keel over. His head was still spinning, and he thought the room was twirling. Eyes barely cracking open, he dazedly let his head fall back and realised he was perched with his back pressed on the side of the wall. How did he manage that? He reached with his hand to try to steady his head, but it met with something else instead. It certainly felt like a head, though. Arthur patted it curiously.

He was startled when he heard chuckling. Shaking his head to clear his foggy mind, his eyes widened when he finally could see a little. He was indeed pressed up against the wall, and he was balancing on something else. Someone else. The image was a little fuzzy, but two arms were latched onto the iron candleholders above them and he was crouched on someone's knees.

The laughing stopped at his reaction. "Forgot you had a team, huh?" asked a voice Arthur didn't recognise. When he shook his head again, he could make out blue eyes and black hair, and wings flapping slowly for leverage behind him.

His hand was still on their head. Still a bit out of it, Arthur curled his fingers through their hair before letting go. "G-good catch," was all he could manage at the moment.

"Hehe, thanks! You're not too shabby yourself, you took out about half of them within five minutes!" More laughter. Arthur was slowly regaining focus little by little, and could make out both Basch and Ivan, as well as a few others flying in to look at him. "Anyways, dude what was that? You do have a group, you know. Goin' in all Sparta might work for you, but I think we gotta plan how we're gonna win this thing."

"Well, what do you suggest?" Arthur knocked on his head a few times.

"Um..." The bigger demon hadn't thought this through, apparently, and Arthur let out a small chuckle. "I mean, you're the leader of our group, right? Whatever you say goes!"

Arthur blinked in surprise. "R-really?" by now, the others had gotten close and formed a small semi circle around them. All of his allies nodded. "Ah...I see. In that case, I..." he hesitated, looking around the demon in front of him to assess the situation. "I say we gather everyone who's still flying and get up as high as we can. The last thing the other group expects is a diving attack." he looked around for approval, and found that everyone was already getting ready.

The demon who was still supporting him let go with one hand to salute to him. "Aye, sir!" he grinned, and let go with the other hand, making sure Arthur was good to fly before backing off.

Arthur had never led anything before. This was quite new. "Well, then..." he observed the group he had, and thought of the odds. Oh, how terribly stacked against him, they were. That thought gave him rejuvenated courage and spirit, and Arthur felt alive. In fact, more alive than he did in heaven. Maybe because he had survived falling. "Let's go, then." he smirked at the impending battle to come.

Maybe I'm not the only one who thinks something is wrong here.

O~o~O

"Sir, this is unhealthy for you. You should give someone else the duty of watching over the Bereft." a desperate voice.

"No! He is mine and mine alone to watch over! Occupy thyself with anything other than I!" a defiant voice.

Oh, Arthur, how I crave to see more...More of you, more of your place in the universe. You are one in a million suns, the one creature that will never find placement. Oh, how I love being the wordsmith of your fate.

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere I Belong is done, finally! Ah, my stars, that feels good to say ^^ I even told one of my besties that updates would come faster now because summer, and he was like "Yea, summertime" XD So I guess I jinxed it for myself :P However, I'm confident that now chapters might be a little smoother, because I am finally at the checkpoint I wanted to be at :D 
> 
> Somewhere I Belong has a completely different meaning than in the music video, I mean, we're not talking Transformers here XD The way I hear the song for Messenger, Arthur is still absentmindedly searching for a place he can belong. It's kind of a desperate need that is becoming more urgent, and he is worried what kind of insanity will plague over him if he doesn't find his happy place. This chapter is also a metaphor for how a lot of us feel growing up; we don't necessarily know our way around and through ourselves, and it can terrify us or it can fuel us. It's never constant.
> 
> I'm sure if you're familiar with the characters, then you know very well who caught him ;D
> 
> Also! 100 points to anyone who gets any Muse reference(s) between the last chapter and this one! :D Stars, I would love it so much if someone actually knew what I was quoting XD I'll give a hint, there are two songs, one last chapter and one for this one. But there are multiple references for that one song each. Seriously, I'll do a shout out and everything. Both Muse and Linkin Park will be present very prominently in this story, and it is my goal to let them be the vessel that allows you to enjoy this story :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or its characters, I don't own Muse, I don't own Linkin Park, I don't own the cover image, and lastly I don't own this particular alternate universe :)) In fact, I'm pretty sure there isn't really anyone who does own an alternate universe...
> 
> Thank you for sticking around until chapter seven! But, don't think this is it, this is only where things get started ;)
> 
> ~Madz


	8. MK Ultra

Arthur's absence in heaven wasn't as insignificant as anyone had thought.

Camael had firmly believed that none of them would remember, that the parades and celebrations for his brave sacrifice would soon die down. Arthur would become a distant memory, eventually forgotten completely under his reign. He would be the only one that kept the young angel in his mind. The beautiful and kind creature who lacked both placement and peace...What a tragic story he was. The tragic protagonist every author dreams of.

Arthur might become a ghost to them. A fantasy story to be told to children and nothing more, no reality, no hope. All that was ahead was a beautiful future, and Arthur was cast away on a false and impossible mission simply because he had the potential to stand in the way. He was also a double edged blade, because the angels would relax and rely on him to stop the war, and that left every possible chance for Camael to take charge and direct the species where they were supposed to go. They were meant for something greater, a world without humans or demons. Camael seemed to be the only one who could see that, and without Arthur, he could make everyone else see too. Even God.

Camael had high aspirations for all of the angelicans. And with no one particularly dangerous like Arthur to risk it failing, he was confident he could make everything work now. The only thing he had left to do in heaven was make sure no one would think of Arthur anymore. Camael was more than certain they would all let him fade from their memories like dust.

He was proven wrong. Despite his attempts to hush the foolish angels, the choirs still sang glorious songs in the grand cathedrals of the tale of the young Bereft angel. They still loved him as they would any other legendary hero. That meant there was someone who was reminding them everyday of how important Arthur was; what purpose he served, and how he would be the bringer of peace across all realms.

The high archangel was not ignorant. He knew someone was keeping his memory alive. He just didn't know who. But he would find them, and even if it meant strangling them in front of God himself, he would silence their useless prayers.

What Camael did not know was that it wasn't just one angel. It was two.

O~o~O

Francis came back from the attack weary, but alive. He had been ordered to be one of the three commanders to lead the angels to the demon camp and kill the hellish creatures in their sleep, and as far as he knew, it was the first frontal assault the angelicans had committed without provocation prior to. The silent onslaught had been successful, unfortunately. Minus those who had managed to escape due to a loud screech when Francis purposefully missed a fatal blow, none had been spared. While he still held an aversion to demons, Francis was not cruel. He was not oblivious either; he was keeping up with Arthur in secret, and was slowly figuring out what he was trying to do.

Smoothing down his fancier uniform, he was filled with regret for not becoming closer to Arthur to know him better. They had been somewhat rivals towards one another, trying to one up the other to get ranked up higher. Now that he was gone, Francis regretted the entire feud. He would have liked this uniform better, Francis thought wistfully, looking at the elegantly decorated and smooth white cloth. He deserves it more than I do.

He was continuing to get to know Arthur without realising. He had learnt so much of the slightly younger angel over the past few days, and knew him well enough to figure out that he was no longer actually opposing the demons. And, if he knew anything at all, that meant something in heaven was wrong. Francis trusted Arthur's sense of direction more than Camael's. Unfortunately, he could only invest his feelings and conflicts to one other angel, the only one who knew exactly what was going on.

Francis found him sitting and crying quietly to himself on the marble fountain in front of Camael's massive cathedral. This wasn't new; he was the closest angel to Camael and saw exactly what he saw. That meant he had the latest word on what Arthur was doing. He cried nearly every day, mostly because Arthur was gone. Francis flexed his wings and fluttered over to him, saddened that this beautiful soul was weeping.

He had eyes of honey and wings of fire; the tips of his feathers on his wings were a vivid orange colour to match his hair. He was truly a beautiful being, but gentle almost to a fault. "Feliciano," Francis greeted softly as he approached, and settled down next to the smaller boy. "I have returned from the offensive...There is nothing really to tell. Not many escaped. What of you? How is Arthur?"

Feliciano delicately brushed a hand over his face, despite knowing it would do nothing to stop his tears. Taking a small moment to collect his bearings, he glanced over to his friend. "A-Arthur has been informed of the attack. He knows there has been death." he said quietly, his sweet voice cracking. "Camael is becoming obsessed with him. I think he believes he is the scribe of Arthur's tale. I-I know not of what we can do, Francis! I don't know what is going to happen!"

Francis nodded sadly, and pulled Feliciano close for an embrace. The younger angel was right; with angels making bolder moves upon demons as well as beginning to use human technology, it seemed like there wasn't much they could do. All of this was happening so fast, so of course their ideals were being challenged. While Feliciano clung to him and sobbed on his shoulder, Francis tried to think of something, anything. How could they possibly know what was right, and be sure they were helping that side?

"I already trust Arthur more than Camael, Feli. I always have." he murmured quietly, soothingly stroking the Italian angel's hair. "Perhaps we should see if there is any way we can contact him without creating a nuisance. Maybe he would share his knowledge with us, whatever we have missed. And we can return the favour. Does that sound good?"

Feliciano nodded against him, and Francis waited until he was calm to stand. "Join wings with me. Let us hope Camael and the other higher archangels won't notice us."

Spreading their wings, the pair took off in search of a discreet place. The sunlight warmed them and the breeze teasingly ruffled their feathers and their hair. Despite that, both Francis and Feli got chills when they thought of Arthur. They couldn't even imagine what it was like for him, to have to go to sleep shivering every night, and not even get enough hours. It was a terrible concept to them, and it wasn't even the half of it.

"Francis?" Feli asked as they leisurely flew past a church.

Francis glanced over to him. "Hmm?"

"How do you think..." he hesitated. "How do you think Arthur is doing? I mean, beyond what we see with Camael. Is he happy? Is he making friends?"

"I don't know, Feliciano. Would you like for him to make friends with demons?" Francis didn't know why Feli would ask such a thing.

"If it makes him happy, then yes." Feli answered firmly. "He has a wing in each world. He deserves to have friends among both kinds. He will save everyone, after all."

Francis was confused by Feliciano's words. Not too long ago, he was crying about Arthur. He supposed the younger soul shared the trust he had in Arthur, the one that was above Camael's just enough to surpass the barrier they had. Perhaps Feli was more of the angel heaven needed, in this world, at least...Francis smiled at him, glad there were still fair and true angels who thought of all the creatures. They were the ones he learnt from most, how to be selfless and kind to anyone, and keep their mercy and faith at the same time. He wasn't sure if that was what Camael had in mind, no matter how many times he tried to justify his reasoning.

After fluttering past another place of worship, Francis spotted a particularly discreet place that was hidden beneath some clouds that were floating upward. Nodding towards the space, both he and Feliciano glided down to it.

"You know how to perform the spell?" Feli asked, looking curiously at Francis.

Francis smirked. "Of course I do, mon cher. Regardez-moi..." his expression calm and confident, he carefully wove his hands in the air, his fingers glowing. After a moment, a small puddle-like image opened in the floor. Both the angels crouched down to peer at it.

The image glowed too brightly in their faces to see anything at first. But, once the light dimmed and their eyes adjusted, both Feli and Francis leaned closer. After a moment of observing the picture, neither of them could stifle quiet giggles. The demon being shown was clearly Arthur, they would recognise him anywhere. But, Arthur was sleeping. Despite the urgency of their situation, the two angels did not want to disturb him while he was getting some much-needed rest. He looked like he needed it.

"Good night, Arthur..." Feliciano blessed the image, the light shining from his fingertips onto the vague curled-up figure of the angel. Francis knew it might not work, but it did not keep him from hoping it would grant him some more sleep than he was getting. "Go to sleep..."

The two angels stared intently at Arthur for a little while more until Francis reluctantly closed the glassy magic depiction. "We can see more of him later, Feli." the Italian angel nodded in agreement. "Camael will be suspicious if we continue to hide. It is time for you to return to him."

"Ve..." Feliciano said quietly. He obviously did not want to go back. Seeming to collect himself, he sighed. "I will tell you if anything new happens with Arthur."

Francis nodded as Feliciano opened his fiery coloured wings and took off towards Camael's cathedral. Sighing as his friend disappeared behind a church, Francis looked back down to where Arthur's image was moments before. "...I will pray for you, Arthur." was all he could manage, and looked away, upset. Before he flew away back to his post as a guardian, he looked up above the heavens and wished upon a star. He had no idea stars had existed before Feliciano told him of how Arthur gazed at them. He had the strange feeling that they were all he could believe in for now.

O~o~O

The past week was what it felt like now. Arthur sincerely wished he had some way to know for sure, but it wasn't an immediate concern. However much time had passed since Arthur managed to get all of the demons in that room on his side had gone very well.

He was learning so much about demons. How they might come off as hostile, but when they pledged loyalty, they would rather die than leave. Much like angels, they were creatures of promise. But exclusively towards friends; they only lied to their enemies, because friends were always held in the highest respect. That was a trait Arthur would always value.

While he was finally getting to some things he desperately wanted to know, Arthur still had not figured out how demons healed themselves. How he could win a fight with a demon beaten in so badly they couldn't tell left from right, but then come in completely fine the next time they showed up? It was confusing to no end.

Arthur certainly hoped he could learn soon; tensions between the demonocracy and the angelicans were rising, and if he didn't start to spread his ideas soon, then he might be too late to stop the next wave of battles. But he had to figure everything out first. And also keep his mouth shut; some of the demons who knew him occasionally asked why he was speaking of war and such large concepts that were too massive for him to worry about. Arthur never even realised he talked to himself, and had to pretend his concerns lied with less important things.

Casually gliding in slightly earlier than usual, he noticed a few of his associates were already there. One that seemed to stick out from the rest was a tall black haired demon with vibrant blue eyes. He had been the one who caught Arthur when he fell during that defining team battle, and he still had not found time to thank him properly for it. Perhaps he would later today; the commanders had mentioned to him the agenda was to do one-on-one sparring with teammates, fights purely voluntary.

Except for him, of course. They had told him they wanted him to be in most of the battles, because now that he had taken the leader role of all the demons in the room, he was expected to become a commander. He didn't mind, he rather liked the sound of that. Arthur was just afraid of hurting himself and everyone else if they managed to make him battle them all. Well, Phobos and Deimos had already figured out they couldn't really make him do anything, he did things purely of his own accord, so maybe he might not have to cause any pain this day.

There was the issue of maintaining the status quo, though. He would not get off so easily.

"Paranomia!" he heard one of the commanders call. It was Deimos, and it appeared to be time to get started with their practice. He could tell by the clamour of demons flying up and moving around. "I want you up first!"

"Of course you do!" Arthur yelled back, earning giggles from the other demons around him.

He was met with two icy stares from both Phobos and Deimos. Smirking, Arthur shrugged and stood to fly over to the centre of the room. Sparring was still somewhat new to Arthur, seeing as he never found fighting to be particularly fun or worth sporting. But, he supposed he could try to look like he was enjoying himself. He would be fighting with his own allies after all, maybe they wouldn't take it too seriously.

To try and bring himself in the mood, he mustered up the most teasingly evil voice he could make. "Who dares challenge the great and powerful Paranomia?!" he demanded, noticing a few demons laugh at how his accent made the statement sound.

There was some shuffling as various demons got up to circle around Arthur to watch the fight, but no one stepped forth. Lovely. They were all afraid of him because they knew how it would end. Just lovely. The room stayed like that for a moment, most of the demons awkwardly standing back.

"Someone must challenge Paranomia." Phobos said dully, shaking his head. " You are all allies. If it helps your conscious, the fight is in jest. You are not out to maim the other."

Arthur sighed.The commander didn't understand that he had the wrong reason, it wasn't that simple. There was more to it than just play fighting. There was no point to a fight where the winner was predetermined. At least, not in this sort of environment. Not when there was no reason to take part in a predetermined fight. A little confused with himself, Arthur had to remind himself that the entire concept wasn't so black and white.

"Sir, we're not challenging him, but not because we're afraid to fight." a demon spoke up from the back. Arthur looked in the direction of the voice and found it was one of the taller females. Glad someone was standing up for them, Arthur nodded to her before looking back towards the commanders to see their response.

"Then why does no one step forward to fight?" Deimos asked a little harshly.

A different voice this time. Arthur looked to his right and recognised the black-haired and blue-eyed demon. "Because we are allies with him. We understand the point of fighting for practice, but we are supposed to practice fighting enemies. Not friends. Paranomia even made that clear when everyone was finally united under his word." he said confidently.

...Ah. So both Arthur and the commanders were wrong. It wasn't even fear, they just didn't want to fight him because they didn't like to fight their friends. Reason enough, in Arthur's eyes, though prejudiced from an angel's point of view. Arthur started to nod again when the other demons made vague noises of collective agreement.

This did not settle well with the commanders. "Very well, then. If this exercise won't be done voluntarily, then we will have to choose the challenger." Phobos hissed, and walked towards the circle. "And who better to start than you? Paranomia, you will fight this one." he grabbed the collar of the black-haired demon and shoved him forward, and he stumbled into the centre of the circle with Arthur.

Meeting eyes with him, Arthur could clearly see he did not want to take part. Neither did he, of course. "Sir, he has already expressed that he does not wish to fight! Surely I have a say in this." he protested for the demon, looking towards Phobos.

"You are wrong. You will fight," the bigger demon growled, flying back with Deimos. "Or would you rather end up dead on the front lines? You're good, Paranomia, I will give you that. But not perfect. You will do as I say."

Wrinkling his nose, Arthur looked down at the ground and snarled in frustration. Status quo. He had to maintain the status quo. "Fine." he spat. Ignoring the instinctive righteousness of angels that made him want to protest more, he turned sideways to get in a defensive position.

The demon before him was ready as well. He seemed to know the outcome, but Arthur had seen him fight before. This wouldn't be easy. But he couldn't just let him win. "You ready?" the demon asked with a grin.

"Of course." Arthur muttered darkly, flicking his tail.

Glancing at the commanders, the two demons were given a nod to indicate the start. Arthur decided to play it safe for this battle, knowing it would be impressive if he messed around, but also knowing he wasn't fighting for show.

That was when he let up his guard a little bit. What exactly was he fighting for?

The demon decided to take the first move and flew at him, and Arthur almost didn't duck in time. He had no idea what he was fighting for, other than the angelicans. But he supposed that wasn't important right now.

The demon pulled a fast turn, and Arthur flew up to meet him in midair, catching him by surprise. Arthur had to hold back a wince at the expression of sheer fear the demon had, trying not to notice how he slowed down just to stop from barreling into Arthur.

If he hadn't slowed down, Arthur would have probably flown a bit higher to avoid being hit. They did crash into each other, but both of them had their hands held out to steady the other. Now they were twirling midair, and Arthur realised this was much like how the demon had caught him when he was falling before, except for being upright this time. The contact felt a little more comfortable than it should have been.

He had to keep the fight going, though. It pained him, because they could easily just stop right then and call it over. It was especially painful because the demon had practically done him a kindness by purposefully not crashing into him. But, if he threw in the towel now, it might wreck what he had been trying to build up. He didn't feel like risking it.

Getting a firm hold on the demon's upper waist, Arthur used the momentum of their spinning to hurl the larger demon back the way he'd come. The demon quickly lost his grip on Arthur and nearly crashed into the floor, trying to compensate for the loss of height and steady himself.

Moving almost dizzyingly fast, Arthur dived down so low to the floor that he had to weave through some demons and benches before he could fly back up behind his opponent. Maybe if he ended it quickly, this entire thing would be less painful for both of them. So, taking a big breath, he flapped his wings to angle himself sideways and advanced towards the demon before he could notice and make another move. In a split second, he had used the demon's back as a platform to launch skywards, and sent the demon hurtling down to the floor.

He landed pretty roughly, from what Arthur could hear when he smoothly spiraled back to the ground. He was afraid to see for himself how much damage he had done, and averted his eyes as soon as he landed back in the middle of the circle. The other demons had spread out a bit after the fight had started to give them room, but now they seemed too far away and too quiet.

Arthur peeked up at the demon before him, who was slowly trying to pick himself up. He wasn't too far, only about ten yards. It was too short of a distance for Arthur's comfort, however. He wished he knew how he could possibly convey how sorry he was, but he couldn't find words or coherent thoughts through the quietness, the only noise being the scratching and scraping noises of the demon attempting to get up.

The demon managed to get to his knees before he could look up at Arthur. It was a strange stare, one that Arthur did not recognise. In fact, out of nowhere it suddenly seemed to instill fear into everyone around them, even the commanders. Did they know something he didn't? Taken by slight surprise, Arthur backed away a step from the demon at the sudden overwhelming fear from everyone else that he could practically taste.

The other got up from his knees, finding balance on his feet with his tail. The demon seemed to disregard his injuries completely now, and, looking closer, Arthur couldn't figure out how. He was somehow bleeding in several places, including from his forehead. That was when Arthur realised what was wrong. The blue eyes of the demon were no longer blue. They were a very bright red.

"Paranomia..." Phobos said quietly, breaking the deafening silence. "You should run."

O~o~O

"The wavelength gently grows, coercive notions re-evolve..." a quiet, eager voice echoed around the small space. "A universe is trapped inside a tear! Don't you agree? It resonates the call, creates unnatural laws..." Pacing. Observing. Wild grinning. "Replaces love and happiness with fear! That is what is happening to him! It is glorious, no?"

The holographic image of the Bereft danced around the room, and it wasn't clear what exactly he was doing. But the archangel watched him with an almost frightening want, as if the desire for the Bereft had begun to consume him.

He was talking to himself, and not actually addressing anyone. The younger archangel stood awkwardly in the back of the room with his hands trembling while he watched his Lord follow the golden outline of the demonic figure, pacing around the room.

"How much deception can you take? How many lies will you create? How much longer until you break?" he inquired the image fervently, reaching out as if he could touch it. "Your mind's about to fall...And they're breaking through..."

A finger grazed the magic projection. "Yes," he whispered, his hand making the picture ripple under his touch. "They're breaking through...And now we're falling, we are losing control..." he murmured.

He seemed to sense the angel's confusion behind him. Smirking, he waved a hand towards the other divine being and cast a glance back. "Can't you see it?"

"N-no. I cannot." the angel's voice sounded terribly weak, as if he was sick with what he was seeing.

The high archangel sighed, his wings unfolding irritably. "Invisible to all, the mind becomes a wall..." he was talking to himself again. "All of history deleted with one stroke! That is what is happening, yes! He is going to be a glorious legend, the hero who killed them all!" laughter echoed uncomfortably loud around the space. "Now that we are making use of what the humans created, it is much easier to see the truth! Psychology is the key, not magic anymore. None of the silly angels know that yet, but soon, they will learn what the sciences are and what they will mean for our future...Soon, my darling...Soon..." he crooned, stroking the image.

It's happening soon, it's happening soon! The scent is blowing in my direction...To me it is new, to me it is new! And it's not gonna change for anybody...

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! I am on a sort of roll here! I think this is officially the longest story I have ever written word wise, because I've started to average between 4 and 5k words for every chapter ^^ I hope that's good for you!
> 
> I'm gonna give a little background information to the song; MK Ultra is the name of an illegal and inhumane CIA experiment involving brainwashing and mind control. Illegal because it used actual people and subjected them to torture(ranging from chemical, hypnotic, isolation, and probably sexual abuse too), and, as far as I know, the purpose extended from simple interrogation of criminals to getting information out of Prisoners of War. Inhumane because they literally took real people with real lives and real stories and real minds and experimented on them like they were lifeless and emotionless drones! They took beautiful, living, sentient human beings like you and I, and tried to control their thoughts and feelings and behavior. In my eyes, that's not right. As a race, humanity has evolved beyond the sort of control we take over animals(though I believe that's a bit wrong too.) MK Ultra is a horrifying way to think of what humanity can potentially become, despite the fact it was shut down, I think in the late 1970's. Relatively, that's not all too long ago.
> 
> **The music video: "Some things cost more than you realise." MTV Exit made this video using Muse's MK Ultra in their campaign to 'end exploitation and trafficking.' In other words, what you might benefit from can hurt someone else, and there are too many people suffering for it.
> 
> The actual usage of the song reflects a bit of both the experiment and the video as well. The way I hear it, Camael is obsessing over Arthur much like one would over their favourite fictional character. Camael is treating Arthur like he isn't a living being, like he's just another part of one big plot he is crafting. It is a sort of mind-control, in making Arthur believe that what he is doing is right. For me, I jokingly made him a metaphor for what you might call "radical fans." Some of you might know them as "fangirls/boys." But mostly, Camael is the representation of an authour going mad over their own fantasy world. He doesn't see what he is doing as wrong like maybe you and I do, because he genuinely believes he is in the right. Because he is the grand master of it all, he sees everything as below him, like a simple part in one giant scheme. This is a game to him. The sad thing is, there are really people like Camael who truly view the world in such a way, that living beings don't matter. In Messenger, this will later be described as the loss of empathy and mercy.
> 
> MK Ultra also reflects a big fear of mine; that I am also being inhumane without realising. I am the authour of this story, so what does that make me? How am I better than Camael, disregarding the fact that his world is real? I am just as much a manipulator as he is, and I treat all the characters like little pawns in my own game. Just as he is doing with Arthur and the angels. Does it make me a bad person if I try to do the same with real people? How do authours justify their fictional "fantasies" and "escapes" if they are about actual human beings? It is a great concern of mine that my enjoyment in writing does not lie in the right place. That if I am so willing to write such stories of fictional characters, then what would I do in a position like Camael? Would I manipulate humanity to make everything go my way, rather than let it play out as it should? Or would I turn into someone like Arthur, who truly has everyone's interest in mind? As Abraham Lincoln said, "Nearly all men can stand adversity. But if you want to test a man's character, give him power."
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, I don't own Muse, I don't own Linkin Park, I don't own the CIA(thankfully), I don't own any media I have used so far, and I don't own any religious references I make. I also do not own the lyrics of MK Ultra; they were used in Camael's script and they are not my words. You can go thank Mr. Bellamy for the lovely words ^^
> 
> 100 more points to anyone who got the other song lyric reference ;P
> 
> I've probably bored you with all of these long authour's notes :P I hope you took the time to read them, because I guess they are little pieces of myself better explained out of context. Anyways, before I get stuck on another rant about how dumb humanity can be, I'll just sign off now XD Thank you for reading!
> 
> ~Madz


	9. Breaking the Habit

I don't want to be the one the battles always choose, because inside I realise that I'm the one confused...

"Paranomia..." Phobos said quietly, breaking the deafening silence. "You should run."

Glancing over to him, Arthur gave a weird look to the commander. "What?" he asked, not sure if he should be scared or not, because this sudden behaviour was odd. He had one demon that looked bloodshot or something of the like staring at him from one direction and another who was quivering like a feather from the other. It was more confusing than it was frightening. "What's going on?" when he didn't heed the commander's words, everyone began to shift uncomfortably.

"He has Rage, you fool!" Deimos hissed fearfully. "And he's after you! Run!"

Well, that didn't help. Arthur tilted his head, perplexed even more than before, and turned back to face the demon he was fighting. "No, seriously, what-? Oh, bloody-!" without warning, the demon suddenly launched himself at Arthur, not looking so friendly anymore. Arthur barely had time to dive out of the way and get back upright so he could fly. "What the bloody hell is going on?!" he demanded, when the demon faced him and let out a low, deep growl. The angel had been pretty certain his voice didn't sound like that.

No one answered him. Some of the demons watching even fled the room, and the ones who stayed were careful to stand or fly back. Arthur was only beginning to get nervous, because he no longer recognised the demon from before. All he saw was bloodlust in his red eyes, trained right on him.

He still didn't understand why either of the commanders were fearful for him. Surely they wouldn't have cared, right? He suddenly felt pressure on his front and realised Phobos was yanking him back by his collar. Ushering him towards the entrance, he yelled "Get out of here, Paranomia! He will not hesitate to kill you!"

"What?!"

"Run, Paranomia!" urged both of the commanders.

The last thing he saw before he turned to flee was the red-eyed demon lunging towards him with looks to murder.

He was slightly terrified as he heard screaming behind him, and flew down the halls as fast as he could. Arthur had no idea what was going on, no idea what could possibly make the commanders so afraid. Why was the demon after him in the first place? Perhaps he was angry he couldn't win a fight against Arthur? But he had lost before...Also, why was everyone else simultaneously afraid just by the look of the red-eyed demon? Arthur had never lost a fight here, and they knew that. What was so scary about a demon who Arthur could beat? Unless the red eyes indicated something darker about his power...Confused beyond reason, Arthur let out a frustrated sigh and veered to his right down a part of the base he'd never been before.

Hearing nothing more than distant yelling from the cylindrical room a couple of halls away, Arthur assumed he'd somehow already lost the demon. He knew the larger demon was a little slower than him, but not that slow. Maybe he really did just escape from something potentially threatening.

At least, that was what he thought. Arthur jumped when he heard a loud crash behind him, as if something had slammed into the wall from the sharp left turn he'd made and made a big dent. Turning his head slowly, he realised not only was the demon practically on his tail, but he had the sheer power to break that wall.

Letting out a startled shriek, Arthur flapped his wings harder with his eyes wide in panic. Okay, so he really is dangerous and I should be scared. He found an opening to fly up to the next floor, and risked ascending up there to try and be smart about losing his chaser. Arthur cringed badly when the demon let out a loud roar behind him, letting him know that he wasn't anywhere close to getting away just yet.

Arthur had no idea if he was going to be able to escape. Terrified now, he wracked his brain for what to do; was he fast enough to hide? Did he have enough energy to keep flying at this speed? Who would tire out first? Could he fight back if he was caught? The realisation that he had no answers was killing him.

At first, he followed the left wall along corners to see where it went. Never having been up in this floor, Arthur had half a mind wondering where it led through his fear of what would happen if he slowed down. So, sprinting with his wings, he took all of the left turns he possibly could, hoping it wasn't making him predictable because he was also trying not to get lost.

It only took two times around the massive area of crooked hallways to realise he was going in circles. He decided to risk it and take rights to mix it up, a split-second decision that probably cost him a few tail-lengths from the demon behind him. He had been this scared before, but there was something about this kind of thrill that made it worse when it was fending for himself to survive. Maybe it was because this time it was in a building and not the open outside space of Hell.

He let out a yelp when something grazed his wing. It was more of a cry of fear than pain, however, because he knew that was going to slow him down. He could hear a slight splattering sound when he tried forcing himself to fly faster, and assumed he was bleeding.

Oh, God! I'm going to get caught! He realised there was no good outcome to this; either he got caught and probably died, or escaped and got lost, only to have to run away again because the demon didn't look like he was going to give up. He would rather be lost and be able to find a place to hide and rest then have to run for this long. His lungs were burning, his muscles ached, and his form was faltering. He couldn't tell if he was flying lopsided or not. There was no way he could keep up for much longer.

Coming up on a two-way turn, Arthur made a last-second decision to go left, and that was where he lost it. That slight hesitation closed the gap between him and the demon. He felt something latch on to his ankle and he was abruptly brought out of the air and slammed onto the floor.

Gasping, Arthur tried to crawl forward and fly again, but he was suddenly brought up by his uniform and hurled into the marble wall. His head took the worst of it, and it hurt so badly he couldn't see straight. Or, maybe that was the blood that fell in his eye. For a moment, he thought he was upside down. He couldn't support his own weight and would have fallen had it not been for the fist that grabbed the front of his uniform and forced him to stand.

He could have sworn he was looking right into the evil red eyes of the devil. His vision was going a little blurry as well, and he felt throbbing pain everywhere. Arthur suddenly couldn't feel the floor. What he could feel was a hard pressure on his neck, but it didn't bother him at first because everything else hurt just as bad, if not worse.

It pressed harder. Putting one and two together, Arthur realised he was being choked and tried to claw at the hand that was squeezing his throat, but to no avail. The leverage the other demon had on him was too much. He sputtered and panted for breath, and couldn't form coherent words even if he tried over the mix of panic and pain coursing through him that made tears fill his eyes.

His windpipe was being crushed. In his desperate attempts to get air, he spat and gasped raggedly, digging his heels into the marble and pulling as hard as he could on the hand enclosing his neck. It wasn't working.

His eyes could barely focus on the cold and apathetic demon in front of him. "P-ple-ease..." he begged airily. "H-help me, pl-ease..."

That was all he could say, before his vision failed with dulled spots and his struggling and squirming got weaker. He was beginning to go faint, and he could feel himself losing traction on the wall. This was it, he thought, and his eyes began to roll back in his head.

The demon's eyes went wide, and he blinked. When he had opened them again, Arthur thought he was dreaming when he saw blue haze over his faint eyesight.

He was dropped. As soon as he hit the floor, he crumpled and fell to his knees, and then could barely stop his head from hitting the floor with his arms. He coughed roughly, and saw blood spot the floor before he had to close his eyes to keep from losing balance. He lifted one hand up to gently touch his neck, almost sobbing from the pain of each shaking cough that wracked his entire figure. The arm that supported him was shaking so badly that it gave, and Arthur fell on his side, still forced to cough harshly.

"No no no, not again! Oh, hell..." he heard vaguely over himself. Forcing his eyes open a little, he could make out a figure backed up against the wall opposite of the one he was next to. "Paranomia! Oh hell, I'm so sorry!"

He flinched when the demon was suddenly towering over him, and a hand cautiously reached for the angel. "Paranomia...No, please don't be submissive now!" Arthur had pulled in a sharp gasp trying to push himself away and it only induced another coughing fit. He was probably spitting up blood everywhere now, but he was too afraid of the demon above him to do much else. He continued to attempt to drag himself along his side, sliding uselessly across the floor in small inches.

"I could've killed you! I'm so stupid, damn it! Why can't I control it?! Please, Paranomia, I have to take you to the infirmary." the demon seized Arthur by his shoulders, forcing a shrill but strangled cry that made him choke on blood still caught in his throat. The fear that was making him react so wildly was probably irrational, but Arthur couldn't even think straight at this point. Squirming weakly, Arthur tried to get away from the demon as he was pulled from the ground and up into the demon's arms. "You aren't crying, are you?! Dude, please, Paranomia! Take it easy! Hell, I'm so sorry..." Despite struggling as much as he could, the demon wouldn't let him free. Arthur couldn't speak or scream for help, and he wasn't strong enough to push away. He wouldn't stop trying to escape, though.

Supported in a strange angle that allowed him to cough facing downwards, he felt the entire world do a flip when they took flight. He still pushed against the demon, using his back, twisting to use his hands, anything.

Arthur could feel himself drifting in and out of consciousness on the way. He would fight for a little bit, then everything would go fuzzy and he'd have strange thoughts that seemed perfectly logical until he would wake up again and continue trying to push away. Distinguishing reality from his imagination became a little difficult, because the meaningless daydreams seemed so real. Every movement hurt his bruised and bleeding muscles.

Strangely, the demon carrying him seemed worried. "Paranomia? Hey, stay with me. We're almost there." Arthur woke up abruptly and tried turning around so he could push harder. "That's right, keep fighting me. Just stay awake, okay?"

The flight seemed to take hours. Arthur was pretty sure they were lost, but then again his head spun so much he thought they were taking vertical turns. At one point, he had somehow managed to turn himself so his body was facing the demon, a position he could exert the most force, and his eyes suddenly seemed to hold weights. Letting them slide closed, he went limp and conceded, his only movements being slight jerks when he had to cough.

"...Paranomia?" He felt everything slow down to a stop, and his mind went reeling. "Hey, wake up, dude. Come on. Please." his eyes opened a little bit, and he could see shame and guilt on the other's face. He could still feel the gentle rocking motions of flying, and guessed the demon had stopped and was just hovering to check on him. "We're almost there, Paranomia. Just a little further. Fight me or something, stay with me, please." he panted, probably tired from carrying him.

Arthur tried to say 'no' and ended up gagging on something in his throat, and instead made a strange sound of pain when his neck strained from the action. Occupied with trying not to die, Arthur felt the demon take the time to adjust his hold on Arthur. He grabbed his arms and wrapped them around his own neck, and then pulled Arthur closer to himself. Arthur was forced to use his knees to find a grip on the other demon's waist, otherwise he would fall, and that wasn't a good idea at the moment.

The demon winced when he went forward again. "Okay, maybe carrying you wasn't such a good idea. You're not that heavy, but you're not exactly light as a feather either." Arthur could hear the teasing tone in his voice. After a couple of seconds that passed after an eternity, he felt them slowing down once more.

They landed. The demon had moved his arms on Arthur's upper and lower back to support him, and walked inside a room Arthur had been in only once before. He could tell that before the bouncing movement of walking made his head fall into the Demon's shoulder. The demon was oddly warm, and Arthur found himself relaxing little by little. The warmth felt so nice..."Nurse! Hey, where are you? I need some help!"

Arthur let his eyes close and just listened, not bothering to push away anymore. "Yes? Oh, it's you. You've gone and Raged on another one?"

"Yea...At least he's alive. I somehow snapped out of it before I could kill him."

"Interesting. How badly is he injured?"

"I...don't know. I don't think he can talk or anything, I might have crushed his throat." something rubbed Arthur's back, and it felt like the demon's hand. God, it was so soothing. It took everything Arthur had left not to snuggle closer.

"Mm. I'll see what I can do. You can go." the nurse's voice suddenly got quieter, as if she'd turned and faced the other way.

Arthur felt the demon go stiff. "N-no! I've hurt him badly, I have to help him!" he protested. "I...I don't want him to be afraid of me like the others are. Besides, he's one of the best fighters around here! I don't want to be made his enemy." he added, as if scrambling for the answer.

The nurse was silent for a moment. "...Very well. You can set him on the cot over there if you want to heal him."

They turned, and Arthur was taken to a strange cushy thing that felt similar to a cloud. Not as soft. But comfortable. He was set down carefully, as if he was a delicate object, and he immediately collapsed on the soft surface upon contact. It seemed to startle the demon when Arthur fell out of his grasp. "H-hey! Paranomia, are you alright?"

Arthur couldn't nod, say anything, or move for the most part to indicate any answer. The most he could do was open his eyes as much as the sudden bright light would let him and look at the demon. He was still afraid, there was no denying that. But he had made himself calm down so he didn't make it worse. It hurt to breathe, and slowing that down somehow managed to slow his heart as well. He was caught in a self-induced state of placidness.

The demon's eyes seemed to light up when Arthur actually acknowledged him. He sat down on the next 'cot' over and looked down, seeming to sort out his thoughts, then met Arthur's eyes again. He opened his mouth as if to say something, when the nurse walked in. Now that Arthur wasn't facing the opposite direction, he could see she had short silver hair and cold lavender eyes, and looked like she ate rather well as opposed to some of the pencil-thin demons he saw at the base often.

"Hmm." she said, giving Arthur a once-over. "His neck is wounded. Badly. It looks like you clipped his wing along the edge there..." she gestured down to his right wing, which hurt to much to fold to his back, so it hung limply over the edge of the strange surface Arthur was laying on. "...and he's bleeding in a couple of other places. His neck will be the hardest, you better hope the worst of it is external." she had a strange accent that Arthur didn't recognise.

Now Arthur was confused. Not understanding, he slid his gaze painfully over to the demon. He seemed to agree with the nurse, staring at Arthur as if in deep thought. "Yea. I have to ask permission first, right?"

"If he can answer. The wounds could be considered fatal because you did nearly choke him to death, so maybe not. He might not be able to think clearly." the nurse told him, and Arthur was suddenly frightened. What was he going to do? He could hear just fine, but understanding words or implications wasn't as easy in this state.

"Uh, okay." The demon stood and looked down shyly at Arthur. "Paranomia." he said simply, addressing him to check if he was listening. "I request permission to heal you. You were injured by my hand and therefore I owe a debt to you. Let me repay it by undoing the damage." he reached forward to rest his hand on the soft surface, making it dip a bit.

Arthur blinked once, making a strange face. The eyes of the demon looked so earnest and honest, and the angel in him wanted to lay all of his trust in him like he would any other angel. The demon in him was still scared and tentative about confirming anything, because he still didn't understand what the demon was going to do.

The nurse sighed. "He isn't thinking clearly. I would just go ahead and heal him, I will stand back." she told him.

The demon nodded and suddenly leaned over Arthur. "I'm going to heal you now. This might hurt a little at first, but not for long. I swear." he knelt down and gently lifted Arthur's wounded wing. Arthur let out a faint hiss at the movement, and suddenly felt a warm and wet sensation along the bony edge. It felt so weird, and Arthur almost didn't want to look. He'd never experienced anything like it before, and it wasn't exactly pleasant.

He decided to turn his head away. It hurt to move his neck at all, but it just felt too uncomfortable to even attempt to look at what the demon was doing. He faced the wall, his breathing coming out a little faster than before.

"He is getting nervous," the nurse warned. "I don't think he gets healed very often. You should hurry. His head is turned, go ahead and get his neck after you've finished the wing."

Arthur heard a small grunt of acknowledgement from the demon. The weird feeling on his wing suddenly disappeared, and, flexing it on his own a little, he realised so had the pain. Shocked, Arthur made a move to turn over and see what exactly had happened, but the demon was suddenly over him and held him still without warning.

Before he could protest by pushing him away, he suddenly felt the demon's hot breath on his neck and, not long after, that wet feeling as well. His face twisted with very near disgust, and he began to struggle a little bit, feeling violated. He couldn't move his head because the demon used his hand to prevent it. He couldn't use his arms or wings because the demon was careful to pin them down as well. Arthur let out a startled gasp of pain when the pressure began to push harder on his neck.

A hand forced his chin upwards, and the disturbingly moist feeling travelled down the other side of his neck. An involuntary whimper escaped him and he shut his eyes tightly, not able to fight it. Until he realised something. He could actually whimper. It hurt, but he could.

The demon suddenly pulled away, still holding Arthur's hands down. At the sudden rush of cold air, Arthur shut his eyes even tighter. "Oh." the demon said quietly. "He's shaking."

"Mmhm." the nurse said, not really sounding like she cared. "Just as I thought. You can get most of the bruising, because they are close enough to the skin. But there is more internal damage in his throat. See how the discolouration is still there?"

The demon let out a heavy breath. "Okay. So do I...?" he seemed to ask a silent question, only indicated by action.

"It might surprise him. Be careful." the nurse said quietly.

Arthur's eyes shot open when he felt the demon climb up over him on the soft cloud-like space. Before he could even react properly, the demon had his legs pinned, his wings, and then his arms by his wrists. He bent down so low his chin almost brushed against Arthur's chest, and he met eyes with him. "Paranomia, all I can tell you is that this is going to feel weird." he told him, and smiled apologetically. "Just don't panic, okay?"

Arthur tried to shake his head, and attempted to scoot away as if it would help. All he had to do was drink the tears of angels and he would be fine! There was no way he was going to be able to do that, though. Not now.

Trying to stop his struggling, the demon leaned forward faster than Arthur could flinch and pressed his mouth painfully on Arthur's, forcing it open. Gagging, Arthur practically went hysterical and started putting up a bigger struggle. He couldn't get anywhere while the demon was using his own weight on him, but he was making it difficult for the demon to retrain him.

He managed to kick out and knock something over, and even wrench a hand free so he could push up on the demon to get him off. But it didn't work; the demon held strong, despite seeming pained with what Arthur was doing.

"Be careful! You're only choking him again! He needs to breathe, hurry up!" Arthur vaguely heard the nurse over the racket he was making, and she was probably scrambling to clean things up. He felt something warm go down his throat, and it obstructed his breathing. She was right, he was going to choke.

By now, the demon was having a terrible time trying to keep Arthur down. He was getting a little stronger and weaker at the same time without realising, and it was beginning to overwhelm his oppressor. Practically convulsing trying to free himself, he flailed as much as he could. Arthur couldn't see anyway, so he closed his eyes tightly and pushed as hard as he could while losing air.

Just as he began to lose his fight again, it was over. The warm thing choking him suddenly slithered out of his throat and Arthur immediately found himself covering his mouth to cough, this time, without all of the pain. He was too busy trying to get air to be that surprised.

The demon gently pushed on Arthur's back to help him roll on his side so he could actually cough productively, and then crawled off of him. Looking over Arthur once more, he waited until he looked like he was done retching out a lung before coming near him. He pulled Arthur's hands away from his face so he could look at his neck. "...Does that feel any better, Paranomia?" he asked, breathing hard like he was still recovering.

Arthur found that he could nod now. He kept his eyes on the opposite wall, and nodded weakly while catching his breath as well.

The demon seemed relieved. "Oh, good. I did it right, then. Okay, I think you still have bruises cuts along your arms and stuff...Can you sit up?" he looked curiously at him.

Blinking, Arthur's eyes flickered over to the demon. "I..." he began, and was startled when he could actually speak. "I th-think so." he said. Slowly bracing a hand behind him, Arthur tried to raise himself.

Without even being asked, the demon stepped forward and helped Arthur so he could sit up straight. Head still spinning, Arthur didn't make any move to protest when the demon began to undo the straps and take off the top of Arthur's uniform, so he just had his dark red dress shirt on. Finally calm enough to think, he watched quietly as the demon began to roll up Arthur's sleeves to tend to his forearms, which had bruises that strangely resembled hands.

Arthur frowned when the demon moved his face close to a bruise, and instinctively tried to pull his arm back. Freezing at his reaction, the demon's eyes flashed up to Arthur to make sure he was alright with what he was doing before continuing. Arthur tried to convince himself that the demon had no intention of hurting him anymore; he was trying to heal him.

"You need to relax," the nurse said, and Arthur looked up at her in surprise. "He's trying to help you. You know help doesn't come easy in Hell. I would be a little more forgiving if I were you."

Choosing not to answer, Arthur simply sighed and turned his attention back to the demon. He had carefully taken the angel's hand and used his other to steady Arthur's elbow. Then, without any more delay, he opened his mouth and began to run his tongue along the bruises.

Arthur almost recoiled back in horror, only just managed to restrain himself. His eyes went a little wide with shock, though, and the nurse was probably noticing his strange reactions. Swallowing thickly, Arthur tried to collect himself before he did something weird that would give him away even more. So that was the warm and wet feeling from before. The demon was licking him.

Gathering his dignity and courage, Arthur forced himself to glance down at his trembling hand. The demon was still holding it steady, and Arthur tried not to make a face despite how repulsed he felt, watching the demon pass his tongue all along the swollen skin. Angels never did anything even remotely close, except maybe to cry on another's wound.

Feeling shaky and slightly nauseous, Arthur watched the livid marks disappear and heal. That was when he finally realised he'd worked it out. Demons do have a natural way to heal themselves and each other. Instead of tears like angels, its...saliva. The mere word made him shiver in revulsion. That was why the nurse and the demon helping him were so nonchalant about it; it was a completely normal occurrence.

The demon checked Arthur over for any other wounds, even when Arthur insisted he was fine. What was even stranger was how the demon kept apologising profusely, since Arthur didn't recall demons to be particularly apologetic creatures. He apologised for hurting him, for chasing him, for removing his jacket, for touching him at all, and a lot of other things. Arthur had to guess that what the demon had done to him was definitely not a regular situation, and having to make it better was both uncomfortable and against demon nature.

It wasn't long until Arthur could finally leave the infirmary. The demon flew him out after thanking the nurse for her help, and kept up with him. Arthur had a feeling the demon would follow him all the way back to the cylindrical room even though everyone was likely gone by now, but, oddly enough, he didn't mind all that much. Arthur didn't know the demon all too well, and it might have been a side effect of being healed and spending so much time with him, but the company was oddly comforting.

Arthur rounded a wide right to give the demon room to turn as well, and found just what he expected. The tall silver archway was there, but the doors were closed. This made a little more of the dark engravings of doomed angels visible, and as soon as he touched the floor, Arthur turned away before he could get too caught up in it.

"...Paranomia?" the demon asked quietly, landing next to him.

Glancing at him, Arthur nodded to indicate he was listening.

The demon smiled nervously, and wrung his hands. "I know you probably don't like me, since I tried to kill you and all, so I understand if you say no. I just..." he looked sheepishly off to the side. "I really admire how strong you are. You could probably take on an entire legion of angels! Also, you're the only one who had survived my, uh, Rage. I don't know how, but you did. I think you're a little more powerful than you let on, yea? Anyway, I would...I would like to request Opia." he looked up hopefully at Arthur.

Arthur didn't know what to say. He was surprised and confused. He was also a little afraid, because the fear of nearly being choked to death by him wouldn't go away for awhile. Looking up at the taller demon, he observed his blue eyes as bright as the skies of heaven, his hair black as a raven's feather. He was definitely more muscular in form than Arthur was, his horns were thicker, his wingspan wider. His tail was probably longer too. He was very frightening for a demon, and also rather distinguishable; he wore a particular black leather jacket over his uniform that looked like something a human pilot would wear. He made for a very peculiar character.

He was still afraid. Any second, he felt those blue eyes would turn red again and he would be killed. For his own sake, he prayed that it didn't happen. But, that was something he felt he could get over. Other than that, he really didn't have a reason to say no.

Arthur held out his hands palms-up. "Alright." he said, finding himself amused at the flash of what appeared joy in the demon's blue eyes. When the other placed his hands in Arthur's and looked up at him, Arthur felt a strange trust towards him like he would in a close friend. He offered a small smile. "It just occurred to me that I don't yet know your name, after all this." he chuckled. "Also, could you, um, explain what you mean by 'Rage'?"

The demon nodded eagerly, and didn't seem to notice that he gripped Arthur's hands tighter out of excitement. "My name's Alfred! I think you're Arthur, right? Most demons here only know you as Paranomia. Oh, and yea, Rage..." he trailed off. "You're not really from around here, are you?"

Arthur cautiously shook his head.

"Well, Rage is a kind of..." Alfred looked like he was trying to think of the right word. "...Impairment? Disability? I don't know, man. Rage is something that gets triggered by most negative emotions; some dude told me it was a rush of chemicals to the brain or something like that." he laughed nervously. "It's very rare. I am one of the few demons to ever be inflicted with it. Basically, I just want to kill everything. It's an uncontrollable fury, which is why it's lucky you survived; most of the time it's only stopped after the emotional release of..." he hesitated, fidgeting awkwardly.

"Of...?" Arthur implored, fascinated by this sudden confession.

"...Of killing something." Alfred said quietly. "Most other demons don't mind killing, but I do. And I have killed more than once. It hurts. Right here." he released one of Arthur's hands and poked at his chest, as if he didn't know what a heart was. "I don't like killing. I know that sounds cowardly because that's what everyone says, I...I just don't want anyone to be afraid of me, which is why I want to be your friend. I also really want to know how you managed to make me stop before I killed you, because I can't figure it out. You're an odd case. Just like me." he gave a sheepish but toothy grin, fangs and all. "Everyone knows you're, like, super powerful! But you aren't cruel like most strong demons are. You can be kind too, and I like that about you."

Arthur didn't recall a single time in his life when he'd been complimented so many times at once. Flattered, he could feel himself blushing. "W-well, I, um, thank you. Alfred." he replied. "I hope we can be good friends. You have my loyalty." he pledged, praying to the Lord that this wasn't a mistake.

O~o~O

It wasn't until later that night that all of the negative feelings and thoughts finally caught up to Arthur.

He was curled up on the ground behind a crate to shield himself from the cold wind that was making the biting air chiller than usual. Head buried in his hands, he gasped quietly to himself and fought his tears. No one could know he was crying.

His gentle sobs shaking his figure, he reflected on all of the recent events. How he had learnt of Rage. How he had finally figured out how demons can heal. How he had very nearly been killed. How he had almost all of the demons he knew on his side. How he had won all of their respect by spilling blood. He imagined the disappointed look on Camael's face at seeing what he'd become. He imagined the evil leer on Phobos and Deimos's faces at seeing what he was slowly becoming.

"I don't know what's worth fighting for..." he whispered. "Or why I have to scream...I don't know why I instigate, and say what I don't mean." he curled up even tighter and covered his face with his wings. "I don't know how I got this way, I know it's not alright..."

Letting out a shaky breath, he rolled over into a more comfortable position. Combing his red hair out of his face, he closed his eyes, letting the tears free. He knew what he must do now. "I'm breaking the habit..." he murmured. "I'm breaking the habit tonight."

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends and I call this one the "come back here and let me lick you" chapter O-O Well, kind of. It was an inside joke when I was telling them about it awhile ago, none of them have actually read it yet XD Anyways, in case if you were wondering, yes! Rage is a metaphor for a mental disorder! Whether it be psychotic or physical, Rage is a demon version of a disability :3 Mostly inspired because of my brother. Not that he gets into a random fits of fury and decides to come after people to kill them, his is cerebral palsy :P You can imagine what the angel version is, if their thing is tears XD
> 
> This chapter was long O.o Wow. Pretty close to 6000 words XD Alright! I'll just go ahead and get into it!
> 
> **The music video: I don't even know, man. I mean, I see the anime adaptation of the band, and tomatoes, and falling but then everything's reversed...I dunno. XD In the style of a graphic novel, I guess
> 
> Breaking the Habit is such an amazing song. I hear it as like a "I should probably run" song. Chase scenes for the win! Unless I write them. 'Cause mine are boring XD Anyway, like, dude :D Um anyway, so the "habit" Arthur is referring to could be the tendencies for violence. I think the best way to put it is that he keeps forgetting about his mission long enough to do something insanely against his nature, such as wound or hurt another demon. Mind you, he has yet to realise his mission is false, but that's for a future chapter :3 I bet he wishes he wasn't so curious about how demons healed themselves, tbh XD Oh yea! The beginning and ending lines are from the song, go thank Mr. Bennington and the band for those amazing lyrics :D
> 
> Yo think of the song as an extension of the chapter :D Like a more in depth and beyond what was written ^^
> 
> IT TOOK ME NINE CHAPTERS TO PUT ALFRED IN BY NAME. I cannot, I literally cannot XD I'm so done with myself. Not Messenger yet, so far this baby is going for, say, about forty chapters so far? ;D My planning isn't set in stone either, so it could go even longer. But with myself? Yea I'm completely done XD
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Muse, Linkin Park, the cover image(still looking for that artist ;-;) or any religious references~
> 
> DUDE I GOT A PUPPY AND NAMED IT HERO AND HE'S SO CUTE NOW I CAN TOTALLY PRETEND TO BE AMERICA :DDD
> 
> Anyways *ahem* on another less random note, I hope you are having fun reading this :D This particular chapter was a bit awkward, granted, but vital to the rest of the story nonetheless. Angel tears and demon saliva...how about that *shudders* you have no idea how weird that was to write :P
> 
> I hope you tell your friends about this story :) It would mean a lot to me, because I have a feeling this is going to become something great! And I want as many people to be involved as possible. It's kind of slow to gaining traction because of a long intro and boring beginning, but I hope you will hang on with me and read through to the end! :D
> 
> ~Madz


	10. Hysteria

“M-my Lord…” a quiet voice slit through the serene silence. “D-do you fare well? You have not seen the sun for days…”

The sleeping archangel responded and shifted a little, dark brown hair falling in long tresses around his tired face. His silvery eyes peeked at his apprentice, and then he elegantly rose to stretch his wings. The first pair was already there, still holding traces of the traditional yellow powder from all of the celebrations in his feathers. He summoned the other two pairs, and slowly stood as he spread all six of his impressive wings.

“I am fine, child.” Camael yawned, watching as the younger angel took a polite step back to acknowledge the seraph. “I am an angel of light, I do not require it.”

“I am sorry.” Feliciano apologised quickly. “I thought embracing the sun would give you a chance to relax. Your skin is becoming pale, perhaps basking in the rays for a few hours would return...your...complexion…?” he hesitated because Camael had slowly lowered his head until it looked like he was glaring.

He shook his head. “Sinful thoughts, my dear child. I cannot think of such leisurely activities when I have an angel to watch.” he tutted disapprovingly.

“O-of course, Camael.” Feliciano nodded and bowed respectfully.

Letting out a deep sigh, Camael combed his long, slender fingers through his silky hair. His wings absentmindedly stretched out along with his arms, following their movements. It felt pleasant to use muscles that had been still for so long.

He noticed Feliciano watching with awe, probably wondering how he controlled so many limbs at once. Smiling gently, he decided to ease the poor angel’s nerves, rather than put him even more on edge. “My child…” he began softly. “How does it feel to be a Principality now?”

Feli blushed bashfully, which Camael found endearing for a young angel full of such promise. Fingering his beautiful uniform that was decorated with lots of free flowing cloth and woven gold, he shyly looked up at Camael. “It is a glorious feeling, my Lord. More power than I deserve.”

“Do not be silly,” Camael laughed. “Of course you deserve power! You are, after all, my assistant in all of this.” he gestured behind him, all the space he’d been watching over the Bereft. “You are as brave as he is, you know. He was such a gorgeous angel…” he said dreamily.

“...Was?” Feli inquired tentatively.

Camael turned around and faced the Principality with an almost wicked grin. “You don’t really expect him to remain an angel, do you?”

The larger angel was slowly approaching the smaller one, who was backing away. “I-I do not understand, my Lord!” his wide gaze darted helplessly around the blue spherical room, which seemed to be flickering with faded lights, having been projecting images for so long.

“What is there not to understand?” Camael asked, his eyes alight with wild fire. “The Bereft has no place here, he never did! He belongs with the demons, if not further within Hell. He practically is a fallen angel!”

Feliciano gasped, and covered his mouth. “H-how could you say that?! Arthur sacrificed everything for us! Even if he is not truly meant to, he is going to save everyone from this war!” he defended proudly, standing his ground defiantly.

Only at Camael’s frightening silence did he realise he had spoken out of turn. Stumbling over words, he folded his wings back and lowered his head subjectively in panic. “I-I’m so sorry, I-I did not mean-!”

“Did I give permission to address the Bereft by name?” Camael hissed softly.

“N-no, my Lord.” Feliciano squeaked.

“Did I give permission to speak so blatantly?” the seraphim approached the principality ominously, almost looming over the smaller angel.

“N-no, my L-Lord!” Feliciano’s voice rose a pitch out of fear, and his gaze was further averted to the floor.

Camael grinned. “Then why do you disagree, my dearest child? Surely you wouldn’t want to end up like little Arthur, all sad and cold and alone with no one left to love…” he said pitifully, as if he were threatening Feliciano. “He lacks everything that makes him an angel! Angels are happy, warm, and always have plenty of others to play and frolic with! Are you not happy here in Heaven? I can give you and all of the other true angels everything...And I will. I promise, all Arthur was was an obstruction to the glorious future I have planned out. You needn’t worry your little head about it.” he walked past, ruffling Feliciano’s hair. “Now, be a good principality and go inform a Messenger that we will initiate another attack soon. This time, I will lead it.”

Feliciano looked like he was trying to hide the fact he was tearing up. “Yes, my Lord.” he whispered. He quickly swiped at his eyes and solemnly spread his wings to flutter out of the dome-like room. Before he exited, he cast a frightened glance back at Camael, before using magic to open the door and fly off to attend to his duties.

“Mm.” Camael sighed, his eyelids lowered pleasantly. “Such a typical angel. He can never understand what it is to be the maestro of fate...What true fulfillment is, what it means to desire…” he turned around, and strolled slowly to the centre of the room. “He doesn’t know that sinning is forgivable, he’s too strictly bound to the rules. Just like most angels, lacking in headstrong or bold wishes…” he opened his hands, weaving them around him until they glowed with an eerie blue light. “He doesn’t know that his obedience is only due to his weak conscious...If it didn’t hurt them so much, perhaps the angels would have done as you have, my dear Arthur…”

His content smile widened as the light danced around the room, lighting up the dull space with shimmering tendrils of light that began to dance around the seraphim. The thin vines of magic appeared to pulse, switching from silvery blue to golden yellow again and again light a heartbeat. Slowly, the gentle light began to form outlines, forming shapes and figures all around Camael. It was quite a dazzling sight, to see all of the scenery just with light. The spell always struck wonder into everyone who saw it, because the only other who used this magic regularly was God himself. This spell was how angels watched over humans.

Of course, Camael wasn’t watching over a human. He always watched over the Bereft One, without any shame. He watched over Arthur as he battled his way around the maze of hell, and watched as he managed to get a foothold on his situation and begin what he believed he should do. Such an admirable character, normally any other angel would have given up and resorted to simply hoping and praying. But not Arthur, no, never Arthur. If something had to be done, he would not hesitate to do it. He would easily put his life on the line for what was right. Such an angel he was, yet, not even close.

Camael was endlessly enticed by his character.

It would be easy to say Camael had fallen in love with Arthur, but it was much more complicated than that. This love was different, not romantically related in any way. This was a kind of love that very few living beings could empathise or even begin to understand, because the love was a very rare kind. This was the love that sparked a strange kind of magic in his eyes that wasn’t from the dancing lights around him. It warmed him, fueling his motivation to achieve what he had set years ago, and gave him inspiration to continue his life’s work. It made his black heart catch in his chest at the mere thought, and left his mind to soften and relax.

This kind of love was an obsession. A malevolent desire that could grind on his nerves and make his heart sing. For Camael, the love was like that feeling that bubbles up when asked for his greatest wish. He knew exactly what he wanted, but at the same time, he had no idea. He could easily grasp it, but, for some inexplicable reason, he couldn’t yet bring his hand to close. He wanted it so badly, and if frustrated him to no end because he couldn’t have it.

“I could end this now,” he whispered, reaching towards Arthur’s still image with a sure hand, and delicately grazed the ever-changing strands with his fingertips. “I could end this, and watch you weep until the end of the worlds...But I cannot yet.” he retracted his hands and expanded the image, looking at the soft outline of his sleeping angel. “I cannot bring myself to stop watching your story unfold. It is becoming an addiction...A beautiful...addiction…” he trailed off and smiled when the image showed the Bereft shift his position. Camael shifted the angle he was watching to get a better sight of him.

The light moved in such a way that Camael’s eyes became overshadowed, and his entire figure became rather ominous. “It’s bugging me, grating me...” he murmured, feeling himself move around the room and follow the pulsing magic. “And twisting me around...I am endlessly caving in, and turning inside out…”

As if Arthur could hear him, Camael lashed out his arms, making the magical image grow bolder and brighter, and began to yell. “I want you now...I want you now! Give me your heart and your soul!” his hands ripped at the magic, and it fell apart like sand before it fixed itself. “And I’m breaking out...I’m breaking out, last chance to lose control!” with one final wild thrash out, he let himself fall to the floor and curled up, giggling to himself.

“Too...far out of...reach…” he said softly, looking up at the spherical image again.

Arthur was still sleeping, and Camael observed his beautiful figure with yearning silver eyes. He wanted Arthur badly, but not in any particular way. Some days he just wished to embrace Arthur as tightly as he could and lay in silent peace, and others he wanted to cut him into small parts and dissect the angel just to hear him scream. He could never decide what he wanted, and most of his reason for anything he did was to find out.

The best way to have Arthur was to watch him as he grew, developing interests and preferences and opinions and wishes...It was so fascinating for Camael, and it balanced out his odd mixture of motherly, lustful, unconditional, and sensual feelings about the Bereft. Watching him meet and learn to appreciate new friends, and keep his angel self a secret piqued a very intimate interest in Camael. He could not wait until more of his flaws were uncovered, until he realised that his task was utterly futile, and until he broke down and fell for the final time.

Falling. That reminded Camael of that other demon, the one who called himself Alfred. He had done a selfless act by catching Arthur when he fell, which was unusual for a demon. He seemed to admire Arthur, and Camael could only grin at the thought. A new character to introduce to the story, perhaps that was the best way to put it.

Foolish angel. It would not be long before Arthur was driven into an insanity much like Camael, because there was no possible way anyone could fend for themselves in Hell. Not even demons from the inner circles. It might be prolonged now, most likely because of Arthur cleverly gaining followers and perhaps friends. Namely this Alfred character, because he seemed to respect Arthur even more fervently than the angels in Heaven.

Ah. Well. Only time could tell. Time indeed...The one thing Camael could not manipulate.

He could do everything else, though. Rising with the elegance of the most divine creature in existence, Camael used a spell to don his battle armour, and spread all six wing to full length. He took one glance back at the image of his little angel that caused all of this hysteria.

Camael, blinked slowly at Arthur. “I want you now...I want you now…” he repeated. “I’ll feel my heart implode, I’m breaking out, escaping now…” his expression suddenly melted into a devilish grin. “Feeling my faith erode…”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shrieks* AHHH THIS CHAPTER WAS SUPER SHORT I'M SORRYYY D: Basically it's hard for me to write a huge chapter about Camael. I bet it's hard to read one too, since a lot of readers are in it for the UsUk XD I promise though, that all comes soon. One more chapter about what's up in Heaven, and then we're back to Arthur! Chapter twelve is gonna be aMAZING because I'm using a song from Muse's Drones~~~ :D But yea, most of the rest of this arc of the story is gonna be Muse songs. ^^' They just work really well with my plot.
> 
> Btw the guitar solo resonates with all the right braincells in my head like oh my stars :D I love this song!
> 
> ANYways, so here's the analysis: Hysteria is a song about wanting something so badly but it's just out of reach and it's frustrating to no end. I tried to explain Camael's particular version of Hysteria, but I don't think I did a very good job ;-; It's not romantic in any way, it's just an endless desire, the same one authours have for characters in their story. I'm sure you've all heard stories of amazing authour's going completely mad and insane over their own made up fantasy worlds XD
> 
> **The music video: it's a little self explanatory; this guy was stalking this girl, managed to get her in bed, tore up the room and scared her away, and now he's Hysterical :P
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, Muse, Linkin Park, Heaven, or Camael. :P
> 
> Oh yah I used song lyrics in this one again :P Go tell Mr Bellamy how awesome those words are! :D I mean, they're just words, but...poetry *Eyes sparkle*
> 
> Hope you had fun reading!! *Nervous sweating* It'll get more exciting, I promise!
> 
> ~Madz


	11. Assassin

O~o~O

This was the day. Camael could smell it in the air when the angels began to wake up with the sun that morning, and it almost made him shiver with anticipation. It was a particularly warm day, but despite that all he could feel was goosebumps crawling along his skin.

It was quite humid, actually. Heaven was usually alight with glorious light and warm rays that the angels loved to embrace. The only way to cover up the sun was with dark thoughts, and those were provided almost uncontrollably by Camael. Grey clouds began to wander dangerously close to the bright star.

A small group of low-ranking angels fixed up Camael’s uniform, adjusting his heavy, pearly white armour and decorating all six wings with the powdered colours of Heaven; Red and Gold. He kept a steady and slightly bored gaze upward, at the slowly darkening skies that no one else seemed to notice. It was a little amusing to see the angels gradually looking duller and duller and not even realising it.

It satisfied him to almost no end. With a mild grin, he watched all the saddened and despondent angels go about their duties like ghosts.

The Angelican Army was preparing for war. Angels and Archangels were tending to the armour and decorations on Powers, Virtues, and Dominions, as well as other higher angels like Camael. The Seraph enjoyed observing all of the big shields and sharp spears being passed around, and how some of the warriors were practicing summoning their bows and arrows. It was unfamiliar to see such gentle creatures with such dangerous weapons, and it made Camael feel sinfully good.

A Cherubim approached him, his face straight and stony. Camael recognised him as Zadkiel, the one who had comforted Arthur the day he fell from Heaven. Most humans recognised him as an Archangel, and his magic bore a particular purple light, thus the lavender coloured tips on his feathered wings. But now he was a Cherubim after years of offering Mercy to humans. Camael could recognise the four faces; on his armour, there was the face of an Ox on the left, the face of a Lion on the right, and the face of an Eagle on his helmet. Despite such a high rank, his eyes looked almost dead.

“My Lord,” he greeted Camael, and bowed gracefully. “I come to inquire, where will we lay siege upon the Demonocracy?”

Camael smiled one of those leering grins. “Deeper within Hell than before, I can assure you. It will be a large city near the border to Earth. We will have to be careful to mind the humans.”

“Of course.” Zadkiel agreed, breathing out carefully. Camael could sense that wasn’t really what he had wanted to ask, so he waited. He waited, and watched the angel stretch his wings, watching the feathers twitch irritably because he wasn’t used to the decorative powder. He picked up many details with his keen silvery eyes without looking around too much. “I...I was also wondering if you knew of the...Bereft’s whereabouts.” Zadkiel got out eventually.

“Mm.” Camael’s broad grin started to seem a little wicked. “You are worried about him. I can assure you, my child, that the Bereft should not be of your concern. He is doing what he is meant to do.”

“But-!” Zadkiel began to protest, but then cut himself off and looked down, seeming so nervous being on the edge of heaven. “My Lord, our Messengers have no way of warning him. What if he is at the place we intend to attack? We never told him that the Angelicans would make a move on the offensive while he was there at all. What if he cannot escape?”

“I have trust that the Bereft can take care of himself.” Camael assured him, not meaning a word of it. “You should as well. He is occupied with his mission of acting as a Revolutionary. It is highly unlikely that he would be where we are going.”

Zadkiel was still uneasy. But he had already come too close to crossing the line, and simply nodded before turning to fly back in position. Camael grinned smugly at his obedience, and turned back to face Hell below the army. Once the angels realised the beauty of it, he was certain that the rest of them would fall into place for his beautiful plan. He loved the concept; that a glorious future awaited them, and yet they did not know. Time always seemed to last too long, for Camael at least. It was like pouring Holy Water out of a goblet, in that most of it would pour out quickly, except for the remaining droplets that took a little longer.

Frustratingly longer.

Heaving a deep but calm sigh, Camael let his reflective silver eyes wander around the army, spying Francis, whom was being tended to by Feliciano. Such a valiant commander; never disobeyed or strayed from his orders. The Power-ranked angel was always trustworthy, despite often keeping to himself.

He was always a rank above Arthur, from what Camael remembered. When the other higher Seraphim watched over the Bereft in heaven, they had noticed their little rivalry. By now, after all that the Bereft had done and achieved, he would be above Francis if he was in heaven. But unfortunately, he would only ever be a simple angel. He would never move up, because he would never return. He would die a simple Messenger.

Poor little Arthur. All of his foolish hopes and selfish dreams...If Camael hadn’t lost his Mercy, he would pity the angel. He had managed to put the Bereft in an impossible situation with unachievable goals, and it was the perfect way to trap him to prevent any encounter with him. He would drive himself mad in Hell and eventually die. It was the only way the angels could do what they were meant to; sacrifices had to be made.

Camael knew he was doing the angels a favour by lying to them about Arthur.

He also knew exactly how to assure that this attack would be successful. He would play on the one thing that could connect all angels, the one thing that they all loved and cherished as a species. It would also startle and confuse the demons, which would be perfect for their objective. Since he would be the highest angel there, he would be giving the orders. So, with every armed angel within the vicinity at his command, he could do whatever he wanted.

It was wickedly perfect. Everything was set, and all that remained to do was to make sure the angels were ready. Some of them knew and did not seem to mind that they would have to kill a few demons here and there. Others had no idea. But they would. They would understand once they were finished.

It was nearly sundown by the time the entire army was set, which was perfect. After watching the Bereft and picking up on the same things he did, Camael knew it was about this time the demons began to sleep. Another mass assault on a sleeping army would be ideal.

Camael spread his six wings and flew to the head of the massive army. With a single wave of his hand, every single one of the hundreds of angels before him took flight and hovered in the air above the clouds. He watched all of their wings, some brown, some blonde, some resembling those of birds of prey, some with the bright colours of their magic. He had control of all of these lovely creatures.

“Angelicans!” he commanded, and they all simultaneously moved their shields up front and their spears on their right. “We fly to the Northeast! We will attack the Demonocracy closer than before and bring forth suffering to their kind! Leave your Mercy here in Heaven, where it belongs! Show no Mercy, and no Remorse!”

“No Mercy and no Remorse!” the army echoed back.

“We will bring down Hell from above, and the Angelicans will rise! Protect the humans and kill the demons!” Camael yelled, raising his fist.

“Protect the humans and kill the demons!” all of the angels raised their shields with Camael.

“Glory awaits, us, my angels! Let us fight!” as the sky resounded with battle cries and shouts, Camael grinned proudly at his work. This was how it was meant to be. This was a glimpse into the future he so heavily desired.

He waited for the army to calm down before sealing their obedience. The one thing the angels would listen to forevermore, for eternity. A song. 

“War is overdue!” he raised his voice and sang, making sure everyone could hear him. “The time has come for you, to shoot your leaders down! Join forces underground!”

As if they were hypnotised, the angels began to sing the phrase back to him, easily harmonising, turning it into a round, and becoming the choir of an army Camael wanted. It was absolutely perfect. 

Camael rose with his army, climbing higher and higher until he suddenly dove downwards, and the Angelicans began to dive with him. They maneuvered around him as they followed, forming a giant protective diamond with himself at the centre. The army descended down from the skies of Heaven to the churning fires of Hell below, and the haunting phrase echoed around him over and over. “War is overdue...War is overdue...The time has come for you…”

The air began to cool as the angels delved deeper and deeper within Hell. After a while, the song began to turn to occasional whispers that rang around the stony landscape. There were ravaged cathedrals, broken pillars, and buildings that leaned dangerously far off centre. The still gargoyles and shattered statues didn’t seem to strike fear into the army, which was a little unusual. The blue of the dark sky and the hazy grey of the fog hushed the city and did not faze any of the angels. It was both thrilling and frightening.

They were as quiet as the desolate grounds. Camael noted that the Angelicans collectively tried to silence their long wingbeats, and the only evidence of their passing was a quick rush of air. This was exactly what he had wanted, and his plan advanced flawlessly.

Arthur would wake up to a Hell of a nightmare, Camael knew that much.

It was only about an hour before Camael finally signaled for the angels to come to a halt, and he allowed them a moment to gaze in frightened wonder at the enormous citadel before them. It was at the peak of the city, and the closest space to the angels because of how high in the air they were. The organised yet broken down fortification held all of the demons, who had no idea that they were about to see the end.

This was the time.

Camael began to murmur a spell, holding out both of his hands. “Bring me my bow of burning gold…” a molten, glowing object began to take form in his left hand, seeming to spark with magic. “Bring me my arrows of desire…” an object of a deep, rich red weaved itself into his right hand. 

The angels began to prepare. “Bring me my spear, O clouds unfold!” he cried, the dark sky suddenly seemed to lighten at his words, and the blood-orange sun peeked through down to Hell for the first time in centuries. It was still setting, so the light wouldn’t remain for long. It was enough to bring life into the army, and he could feel their anticipation rippling through them.

And finally, the words that would unleash the fury of a thousand suns. “Bring me my Chariots of Fire!” Camael roared, finally summoning his full weapon and lighting the skies.

The angels along the front lines lashed their arms outward, creating a spell that outlined countless shapes that began to take the form of wild horses. The sheer amount of magic was exhausting them on the spot, which was why there was an angel behind all of them to help create the burning stallions and the fiery carts behind them.

Almost at all the same time as Camael released his fiery arrow, hundreds of chariots of fire began to rain down on the citadel, setting fire to the military base. Immediately, demons were awakened from the inside, and were out of the buildings to see what was going on. If they didn’t get trapped inside. Once they realised what was happening, the demons began to scream and alert the others.

Some of them were blinded by the sun. Some of them perished with the fires of the magic horses. Some of them flew around blindly, trying to awaken the others. Camael watched them scurry around like ants as he advanced the army, and with one hand, signaled for them to leave none alive.

Immediately, the offensive angels summoned their bows and began shooting arrows of light into the mess of evil creatures. The angels with spears, who were followed by the defensive angels, flew in to attack the demons head on, whilst being protected by magic spells cast by the defensive ones. The remaining angels, which were many, still flew beside Camael until they were ordered to dive in.

He watched as demon blood began to spill. Little angel blood was being shed, but it was nothing compared to the wounds the angels were hacking into the demons. It wasn’t long before Camael could watch their lifeless bodies fall down into the black below with a pleasant smile. Everything was going right.

Camael decided to make the angels go in a little harder. Picking up from the song they had left before, he began to sing. “Lose control! Increase in pace!”

As he expected, in harmonising voices, the angels began to sing back. “Losing control...Increasing pace…”

“Warped and bewitched! Time to erase!” as the Hellish spawns of the Devil began to multiply in number, Camael could only grin at how the angels handled them with ease. He soon had all of the angels following his movements and charging the doomed demons. “Whatever they say, these people are torn, Wild and Bereft, Assassin is born!”

“Wild and Bereft, Assassin is born, whoah…” the angels repeated.

He waited a moment, letting the words echo around his army. Then, with a leer that could strike fear into anyone who met eyes with him, he gave them a new phrase to sing. “Oppose, and disagree! Destroy Demonocracy!”

With the new order set and said, the angels would abide. The words all wandered around, and Camael was pleased to see how afraid the demons were.

He launched right back into the merciless attack. “Lose control,” he directed the angels on his right to attack from above.

“Losing control…”

“Increase in pace,” he shot another arrow of fire, and let the angels strike on the inside.

“Increasing pace…”

“Warped and bewitched, time to erase! Whatever they say,” he continued, his excitement widen his smile.

“Whatever they say…”

Camael’s magic burned like the fires and lit up the skies like lava with the setting sun. “These people are torn!”

“These people are torn…”

And then, in a secret allusion, he referred once more to the only angel who could have done something about his reign, now rendered helpless. “Wild and Bereft, Assassin is born!”

“Wild and Bereft, Assassin is born, whoah…” the angels echoed back with their beautiful voices, unaware of what it meant.

The ominous singing was frightening the demons badly, and thus the white and colourful angels began to overtake the black and grey. They were falling in higher and higher numbers, and Camael couldn’t even begin to guess how many had lost their lives already. They were an infestation to the worlds, they needed to be rid of. Camael hoped he was getting this point across to the angels. And, if any of them died tonight, he would honour them. He would make them understand that this was right.

It was only when the sun had finally set that the screams and cries were silenced for the last time. Camael knew there were demons that had escaped, but it was obvious most of them were dead. He observed the bodies littered across the grounds, and those that had fallen even further in Hell. This was exactly what they deserved for being such malicious beings, and Camael knew he had done the worlds a favour. 

He gathered the angels with a wave of his hand, and led his weary army back up to the glorious Heavens.

O~o~O

Hell was frightening. 

That was the only thing the angel could think as he flew, ragged breaths and weak flapping slowing him down. He was trying to shed his armour and drop it unceremoniously to the stone ground, trying to remove any trace of where he was supposed to be. He searched desperately, knowing he was lost. He had one hope, and he would gladly die for it. If he never made it back to Heaven, he had to find the one soul who would understand.

Tears filled his eyes when he thought he could hear the evil giggles of demons that were watching him. He was scared, more scared than he ever had been in his life. But he had to do this, and perhaps his faith would save him. Turning a clumsy corner, he clipped his wing painfully on the edge of a brick wall and cried out in pain.

He tumbled to the ground, bruised and broken in more than a few ways. But he had to keep moving, out of sheer fear of anyone creeping up and following him. He quickly scrambled to his feet in panic, nearly slipping in his sandals, and took off sprinting on foot as fast as an angel could.

Hope stayed with him. He almost lost it, but through the tears streaming down his face, his Fidelity to God pushed him past exhaustion and injury. He had to do this. 

The dark-skinned angel panted but kept running, with muscles he didn’t even know he had aching and burning. His body was slowly failing him, and he knew it. With one last push, he turned a corner, praying he was close.

He came to a relieved stop at the sight. He recognised this area vaguely, and saw a figure curled up on top of a crate. Thank God he was far from the attack, at least he wasn’t hurt.

The angel stumbled over to him, grinning through his tears. “Arthur,” he sobbed, trying to pull himself together and nearly tripping on the other. “Arthur, please, you must wake up. This is urgent!”

He rolled Arthur over onto his back and shook him vigorously, but to no avail. The angel knew it would be bad if he disturbed Arthur’s sleeping, but he had to tell him somehow. Perhaps he would wait. Giving Arthur one last shake, he sighed and backed up a step. He was shuddering almost violently because of how cold it was, and he assumed it was why Arthur had been curled up so tightly. The poor angel must always be cold.

With a warm smile, he unwrapped the elaborate top of his tunic and took it off, leaving only the basic top. He opened his arms to let it flutter in the slight breeze, and carefully laid it across Arthur. The decorative white fabric would be his gift, if he couldn’t give anything else. Arthur deserved more.

Bringing the soft blanket up to his chin, the angel’s hand passed over something underneath Arthur’s shirt. Curious, he brought the blanket back down and prodded Arthur because he didn’t know what it was. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt, he began to gently unbutton Arthur’s dark jacket, and eased his hand under it until he found it inside his jacket pocket.

Pulling it out quickly, his eyes lit up when he realised it was a journal. He began to flip through it without hesitation, knowing this was the perfect way to let Arthur know his message. He had to let him know.

His eyes wandered curiously over the pages, suddenly fascinated with the eloquence and organisation of it. He couldn’t actually read it, because it was written in an old language that Arthur probably used for secretive purposes. The diagrams weren’t hard to decipher, though, and he gazed in wonder at all the drawings and comparisons Arthur had scrawled in. Lots of simple Angel vs Demon drawings that portrayed all the similarities and differences, among other things. The angel was impressed.

He finally found an empty page, and forced himself to ignore his concern at seeing a couple papers spattered with what looked like blood. He used his magic to write, and concentrated on getting the message written down.

There was a small scrabbling sound. The angel froze, and in a nervous flash, he gritted his teeth and continued writing. Nothing was more important than the message. At the risk of his own life, he would protect Arthur’s and let him know what he needed to. It was necessary to the lives of everyone.

He finished writing and replaced it back where it belonged with shaking hands, making sure to button up his jacket again and pull the white cloth back on top of Arthur. With his mission finished, the angel sniffled and wiped at his tears. He quickly touched his injured wing with his hand, and turned around. Should he stay, and guard Arthur until he awakened? Or should he leave and try to find his way back to Heaven?

That question was quickly answered when the angel heard the unmistakable sound of a demon getting nearer. He could do both.

The Angel of Mercy whirled around and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Arthur’s forehead, and just as quickly, he turned and took flight.

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will have you know, this song is what started it all. This song is where the entire idea for Messenger came from XD Unfortunately it's not in Arthur's point of view, because that nerd could probably sleep through anything XD So this chapter is also important, if not all that interesting. But next chapter we are back to Arthur! :D Also, next chapter is from Muse's new album, Drones, and the next Authour's note will probably be me screaming about how amazing it is :P I love Muse, okay? XD
> 
> So the words I used are actually from the song. Being the seed that started this story, it's not hard to guess that it's where I coined the terms 'Demonocracy' and 'Bereft'. Demonocracy is not actually a word, and auto correct gets onto me all the time for it. It's just a play on words XD A clever one, I might add. And Bereft is just a word I really like for no reason XD I turned it into a name, I guess. I really hope this doesn't become some sort of cheesy Disney musical type thing because there will be lots more singing due to the fact angels in general love singing :P Including Arthur. Which you will see next chapter. *Nervous sweating*
> 
> When I use lyrics in depth like this, I'll tell you about them :D My favourite part about the combination of the song and chapter is when Bellamy sings the verse, he dubbed over himself to create the effect of it being sung back to him. So, in the actual song if you listen, you can actually imagine Camael singing orders and the angels singing back :D It's sooo cool. I love technology sometimes XD Oh, and yes, the actual lyrics are "Oppose and disagree, destroy Demonocracy!" *Does the Steven Universe starry eyes thing* Basically, Muse rocks. Literally. Oh! And also, I'm sure it's weird pinning who the Assassin is. It could be Arthur, Camael, any of the demons, or any of the angels! It's meant to be vague, and could be put to anyone.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, any of the religious figures, Muse, Linkin Park, or the cover image ^^ Oh, and also I don't own the lyrics, which I'm sure aren't hard to spot. Again, you can go thank Mr Bellamy for the amazing words, and I probably should too because this entire story started because I heard this song XD Shoutout to Mr Bellamy for giving me this idea! :D
> 
> Anyways, I suppose that's all for now. Hope you've enjoyed, maybe? Next chapter will be both longer and more interesting, I hope :P
> 
> ~Madz


	12. Mercy

Arthur had awoken from the strangest dream.

It was a sort of haunting dream, but not in a way Arthur could really describe. It was more of a memory, and for some elusive reason, it made Arthur's heart catch in his chest out of fear. A mixture of emotions came from that dream, alternating from being slightly afraid, to getting annoyed, and then to wanting to cry and sit by himself for a long time.

Right then, he was stuck with that sad and lonely feeling.

He sat in the Cylindrical room at the military base, having woken up earlier than he should have. He was the only demon present, and he sat in his usual area twirling a feather between his fingers.

Sighing quietly, he looked around the still and dulled grey room for a moment more, before returning his glassy green eyes to the purple-tipped feather, careful not to crush the quill. The dream...it stirred a strange feeling in him. He could only name a few parts of it, because he wasn't as familiar with the more negative ones. But he knew for certain he felt homesick and upset.

The dream was back when he was a young angel in Heaven. He remembered very vividly, the warm wind that caressed his pale skin and made his hair and feathers flare up. The sun soothed his muscles, and relaxed him as it always did. Over all this time, he had forgotten what it had felt like to lose tension.

For most of it, he'd sat on a soft cloud in front of his favourite cathedral, the Cathedral of Song. He could remember hearing all of the beautiful voices coming from it, a never-ending ethereal choir that always sang ever-changing chords. The voices never said words, they just maintained an ominously glorious sound. Angels of all ranks would go inside to sing and come out when they had finished, and the calming song never stopped.

Arthur smiled a little bit, moving the feather close to his face and brushing it over his cheeks and lips. He blinked a few tears back, remembering how fond he was of the Cathedral of Song. It would often put him to sleep because it was so hypnotising, watching all different coloured angels with their gorgeous wings fly in and out on occasion, and listening very deeply to their sound. They would get softer and louder at seemingly random intervals, and maintain a droning dissonant chord that only wrenched more of the beautiful suspense in his fragile heart. The song was so familiar, and it made him feel so much nostalgia at once that he almost became dizzy.

The voices had gotten louder and louder until it had become an almost frightening and deafening buzz in his ears. His calm feeling gradually dissolved into an anxious and nervous emotion, and he woke up breathless. As if to add to the mysterious and scary feeling of it all, he had discovered a blanket draped over his body and a feather not far from where he slept.

He would recognise the elegant patterns in the cloth anywhere, the intricate golden designs and, for this part in particular, ornate purple markings of rank. It wasn't a blanket, it was part of a high angel's uniform. Without a doubt, Arthur knew an angel had come to visit him. He hadn't figured out why yet. He thought about writing it down in his journal for later, but suddenly couldn't stand to sit still any longer and instead made himself fly off towards the base. He decided the best thing to do with the blanket was to leave it with his angel self. So before he had left, he performed the switching spell behind a couple of crates, wrapped the half-uniform around himself, and then switched back. It magically disappeared, with the rest of his angel qualities.

Arthur was alone, playing with the delicate lavender-tipped feather in his hand absentmindedly. He had recently begun to think of himself as strictly Paranomia when he was in the large room, but now he could only think of himself as the pathetic little lonely angel that he was. He might have lost his former opinion of Angelicans, but now he wanted desperately to have been ignorant of Heaven's faults. He wanted to go home.

He let out another deep sigh, wishing he was awake to see the angel that had visited him. But, the fading presence seemed so dead down in Hell that it almost felt like a ghost. Arthur carefully tucked the feather in his inside pocket as if he were afraid of losing it to some mysterious breeze.

Just in time, as well. Right as Arthur had finished buttoning up his jacket, he could hear demons approaching from down a few halls.

He looked up as a couple entered, and, upon seeing him, one immediately flew over. "Paranomia! Hey, how are you?" Alfred greeted with a somewhat odd smile.

Shaking his head slightly to attempt to clear his mind, Arthur looked up at the demon hovering above him. "I'm fine, Alfred. And you-?!" he jumped slightly when Alfred suddenly flipped onto his back in the air and flicked Arthur's tail with his own. He coughed a little in embarrassment. "A-and you?" he tried again, fidgeting awkwardly.

Alfred laughed at Arthur's reaction, and reached out with his hand to poke at Arthur's horns, still upside down. "I am above the fires," he said thoughtfully, making a funny face as he tugged gently on one of Arthur's horns, making his head tilt to the side.

Arthur was very confused, both with what the demon had said and with what he was doing. However, after confusion became a default for him in Hell, he didn't show it. He kept a steady, and slightly annoyed gaze on the demon.

He was very strange, Arthur could safely say. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ivan and Basch give their own puzzled looks to Alfred. They watched as the larger demon poked at his face, making Arthur flinch slightly each time. He couldn't really keep track of his train of thought with the demon incessantly prodding him, but he tried to decipher what he meant by 'I am above the fires.' Was it a reference to the inner circles of Hell? Perhaps it was an expression that was synonymous to the angel phrase 'My prayers have been merry' or 'I fare well.' The slightly more pessimistic attitude in Hell would bring justice to that comparison, he supposed. Maybe angels typically thought along the lines of 'I am grateful for all that I have, I am gifted with so much', whereas demons would think 'At least I'm still alive.'

"Why are you poking me?" Arthur finally asked flatly, getting a little more irritated when Alfred suddenly began jabbing at his eyebrows, and that stupid upside down smile was getting on his nerves for some reason.

Alfred shrugged and stopped, but didn't move from in front of Arthur. His tail seemed to match his mood, as it was lashing around playfully and occasionally meeting with Arthur's tail.

Perhaps Opia meant something different for every demon. Arthur had observed similar things with other demons, and it only seemed that demons who really trusted each other would let their friend touch them. If touch was the right word, it was more like allowing contact or being in close vicinity. Did that mean Alfred trusted him that much? Or was he just having fun by teasing him? He doubted he would find out.

Suddenly, Alfred flipped back the right way and flapped his wings gently, so he didn't hit Arthur, and landed next to him on the stone bench. They were quite close; Arthur could feel the demon's slight warmth from his leg, and their wings almost brushed against each other. Despite having it been the norm in Heaven, Arthur still felt slightly uncomfortable and it was probably because he hadn't felt something so intimate since he'd left his home. This behaviour wasn't new from Alfred, though; he'd been acting this close to Arthur since that day he'd nearly succumbed to his Rage.

Alfred was looking towards the entrance to the room, so Arthur followed his gaze to see a few more demons enter the room. Enter as in stumble over each other as they struggled, some limping, to get inside. They were more of his allies among a few faces he didn't recognise, no sign of Phobos and Deimos. The difference was, they all looked terribly tired and beaten in. Arthur usually saw them with smirks or some sort of smile, but now they couldn't seem to lift their broken frowns.

Upon not seeing either of their military leaders, the demons quickly spotted Arthur. "Paranomia! There has been trouble!" one called out, a short one with light brown eyes and long dark hair tied back with a band. He didn't recall any of their names.

Ivan and Basch flew up with Arthur to meet the group of disheveled demons. "Trouble? What sort of trouble?" Arthur asked curiously, sitting up a little straighter. "You look bloody awful, lad. The whole lot of you."

Some of them were panting, he noticed. "A-another attack," one of them blurted out, a tall demon with very dark skin. She pushed forward through the group, struggling to explain it to Arthur. "The angelicans struck close to this region of Hell. I heard the military was attacked by a lot of higher angels. Principatus, Potestates, Aretes, Dominationes, Thronos, and even Cheroubin, from what I can remember."

Arthur's dumbfounded face was mistaken for one of shock with the situation. What they didn't realise was that he actually didn't have any idea what she just said. He was grateful when another spoke up.

"There was also a Seraph! A Seraph led the attack!" one exclaimed, coming up in front of the other demons. Her horns were pointed downwards, unlike a lot of other demons present. But that wasn't what had gotten Arthur's attention.

Seraph. She said Seraph! Those weird names spoken by the other demon, the Principatus and Dominationes...They were the demon words for the angel ranks! The blood drained from Arthur's face as he realised what this meant. If an attack was led by someone so high like a Seraph, then it definitely was not something trivial.

Arthur had to choke back some weird nonsense before he could speak, and glanced at Alfred, who seemed almost as surprised as he was. Of course he wasn't even near, but a Seraph was rare to see, let alone even hear of in Hell. That was probably why there was not another demon word for the rank. "A-a Seraph?" he asked a little hoarsely. "Y-you can't be sure..."

The demon shook her head vigorously and pointed at a tall blonde demon a little further into the group. "He was there! Tell Paranomia about it, Ludwig!"

The one called Ludwig stepped forward, and met Arthur's eyes with a searingly cold blue gaze. In fact, Arthur almost jumped at how intense his eyes were, a lot colder than Alfred's slightly gentler eyes. He knew for certain he hadn't seen Ludwig before; he must have found his group of allies and followed them here. "Ja, I was there." he said with a gruff, low voice. "I saw a Seraph there for certain; he had all six wings like the tales tell. All of the angels responded to his command, and he made the angels do something strange with their voices."

Arthur was sitting on the edge of his seat, gripping the stone anxiously. "What did the Seraph look like? Were you close enough? What do you mean by something strange?" he asked quickly, his brain coming up with a thousand more questions than he could speak, all on the tip of his tongue.

Ludwig seemed slightly taken aback by Arthur's inquiries. "...He had long hair." he said after a moment. "Dark hair, I think. And colourless eyes, like mirrors. I was nowhere near him, because he had several legions of angels between where I was flying and himself. But I could see how reflective his eyes were. It was like looking into the eyes of death." the demon seemed to trail off, looking lost in thought. Arthur could only imagine how frightening it was. What he could figure out now was that the Seraph who led the attack was, without a doubt, Camael.

"I don't know the word for what the angels were doing." Ludwig admitted. "They were speaking while slaughtering us, but in a...harmonious way. It was almost pleasing to the ear."

Arthur flinched at the word 'slaughter', but he knew what Ludwig meant. He had never heard of the Angelican army singing while killing.

"I've heard angels do that before too!" Alfred suddenly spoke up, and everyone turned their attention to him. "But never in battle. It was a long time ago, so I don't remember much. It was in something that I think was called 'preacher?' And-"

"Prayer," Arthur corrected automatically, without meaning to. He blinked and looked about as startled as Alfred did. "S-sorry. Go on."

Alfred gave him a confused look, but nodded. "Uh, yea, in prayer, and they were doing that harmony thing with their voices that Ludwig was talking about. I couldn't hear words, just the endless and changing tones in their voices. Like if I said 'Aaahhh.'" he demonstrated for the others, and looked at Arthur hopefully.

Arthur bit back the urge to explain everything to them. "I-I've heard of it somewhere. I think they call it 'singing.'" he said quietly, and was surprised when all the demons suddenly looked at him with fascination.

"Wow, really? I've never heard of that word. 'Singing.' Doesn't it sound like 'sinning?'" one near Alfred asked, and that began a whole new level of conversation.

The demons began to talk to each other about their new knowledge of angels, and he could see all of the questions in their eyes that they didn't give voice to. He looked to Ivan for help, but found that the silver-haired demon was looking away and seemed to be thinking about something else. Basch was speaking with Ludwig, and Arthur could feel Alfred staring at him.

He slowly turned his head to acknowledge the slightly larger demon. "Yes?" he asked.

Alfred blinked. "Have you noticed something? Phobos and Deimos aren't here, and no one else but us have showed up. Usually everyone is here by now." the subject seemed random at first, and out of nowhere.

Arthur looked around in slight surprise, only to realise it was true. Alfred was right; by this time, normally the other demons were present, and they would be fighting. But the place was empty, save for his little congregation. "Huh." he said pointedly. "Maybe it has to do with the attack."

The others had stopped questioning singing vs sinning and had begun discussing more things amongst themselves. "What do you think we should do?" Alfred seemed clueless, and glanced around worriedly. "Should we go somewhere to see if we can find out more about what happened?"

"That sounds like a good idea." Arthur agreed with a subtle nod. "I don't really know a place to go, though."

"Maybe..." Alfred thought for a moment. "The Nkri Graveyard? There's a magic library full of books about the wars like the Flame and they have all the names of the dead. Some of the graves might have all of those who recently died, and we could find out why they were so important that the angels had to kill them. Don't angels only kill as a last resort?"

Truth be told, Arthur had no idea what the 'Nkri' Graveyard was. The mere name sent shivers down his spine; being around the deceased made him nervous, and he was pretty easily spooked. But a library sounded promising, and he could finally decipher why the angels were making such bold and brutal moves while he was still in Hell. It was better to go than not, especially if no one was coming to the base any time soon.

He nodded. "From what I know, yes. Angels aren't usually as...violent as we are." he hesitated to say 'we'. "Maybe going to the graveyard will give us some answers."

Alfred smiled, and stood up. "Should we take everyone with us?" he inquired, gesturing to the ten-or-so demons in the room.

"Yes." Arthur decided. "More minds and more eyes will be helpful."

O~o~O

For the first time in a painfully long while, Arthur felt comfortable flying along other people. The air was cool as usual, but flying instead of standing still made it much more bearable. Alfred was directly next to him, almost matching his wing beats. Ivan, Basch, and that other blonde demon called Ludwig were flying near him as well, and the rest of the demons from the base were behind them. They were going in a direction he'd never been before, but he trusted his sense of direction and knew he would be able to get back on his own if need be.

He didn't seem to be the only one who was this thrilled either; he snuck glances at Alfred every once in awhile and always found him grinning broadly to himself. With his own pleasant smile, Arthur prayed no one thought to ask him for directions.

The wind rushed around them, and Arthur could feel very light rain beginning to fall. The clouds were a lighter grey than usual, and it brought out features in everyone and even in himself that he didn't notice before. He discovered several hues of darker colours that he would have never caught under the dull sky, like blues and reds and browns. They all almost looked like the colours of Heaven, and not the dark greys and blacks he thought they all had. Or maybe he was just that desperate for a trace of his home.

It was a long time that had passed. Arthur had given up on time long ago, knowing it was just a way to keep order in Heaven. He knew they they were flying almost beyond their limits; he could see Ludwig's and Alfred's red faces, and a few of the others behind him who were fighting to keep up.

They flew until all of them were panting for breath, and they gradually began to slow down their collective pace. Arthur found breathing to be painful; his sharp intakes of cold air seemed to burn down his windpipe, and, like everyone else, he was covered in a cold sweat that was chilling to fly with. Alfred gave him a strange look when he suddenly hugged himself, rubbing his arms with his gloved hands.

By the time they had all stumbled into a landing, Arthur was seething and shivering violently. He didn't care that everyone could see him, he was bloody cold. None of the others seemed to be bothered by the temperature, and for a moment he resented all of their stupid, cold, demon hearts.

Arthur waited until he and most everyone around him had caught their breath before looking around. What he saw almost took his breath away again.

They were walking on an ancient structure that was broken down in some places. In the place of blackened stone where it had fallen were soft clouds. Far up in the sky, Arthur could see faint sunlight that made the grey clouds up above a few shades brighter.

"This is...Middle ground." he murmured to himself, the realisation suddenly dawning on him. With wide eyes, he looked around in wonder, and breathed in the suddenly serene air. There were graves far ahead of them, and all of them were marked with either black stone or white marble. They weren't all separated either; black and white gravestones mingled among each other in various places. This place was not just a graveyard, it was a compromise! He was absolutely shocked that such a place existed, and he had to collect himself before he could get too emotional about it. There was a place where the angels and the demons could be at peace! This was exactly what he needed to expand on for his mission. If this wasn't a sign from God, he didn't know what was.

Alfred approached him, noticing his strange expression. "Hey, are you alright, Paranomia?" he asked in confusion. He must have seen how Arthur's eyes glittered with utter rejoice, because he did a double take of his face.

Arthur could not answer for a moment, letting out weak breaths with a blissful smile and still staring ahead at the vast sky temple before them. "I am...bloody brilliant." he got out eventually. "Do you know what this is?"

"...It's a graveyard with a library." Alfred replied with a half laugh, and flapped his wings once to move and stand by Arthur. "I've only been here once, but I know that it's for keeping records of the dead."

Arthur nodded, and looked at Alfred, trying very hard to suppress his excitement. "That's not all. It is also peaceful grounds!" he gestured far above them, towards Heaven. "This is a sacred place that neither demons nor angels believe to be worth fighting for. This 'Nkri Graveyard' is where our differences disappear!"

His happiness was not met with Alfred. Looking with a very confused expression, he glanced back and forth between Arthur and the graveyard. "I don't get it." he said a little dumbly.

"This is a sanctuary for both angels and demons." Arthur said, trying to put it as simply as he could. "No war exists here. All rage and sadness is kept outside of this...mausoleum, this shrine!" he explained, trying to come up with words to describe it. "This is where we can grieve and celebrate our dead without fear. All of us."

Alfred nodded, and Arthur assumed he understood. "Well...What's so great about that?"

At that question, Arthur's delight faltered. "I..." he realised he had not explained his motives. Alfred was the closest demon to him, other than Ivan or Basch, so he assumed it would be safe, but Alfred's Rage...What if he regarded the angels with undying hate? There was no way he could agree to finding peace and ending the war! To tell him or not to tell him, was that not always the question?

"N-never mind." he said eventually, and turned to face the other way to see if he could find some sort of magical guide around this vast place.

Alfred seemed perfectly fine with that answer, until he saw Arthur's distressed face. "Oka- hey, wait. You were really happy about this, which isn't something you normally are. You were going to say something important, so tell me." he reached forward and poked Arthur's wing, which had drooped considerably.

Arthur shook his head, a little surprised. "No, it's quite alright. I'm not sure you would understand." he stepped off to the side, looking around the border of rock for any kind of key or spell to trigger.

The demon persisted. "Is this something everyone should know about?" he inquired with a teasing smile, using his tail to wrap around Arthur's wrist when he reached towards the ground.

"No! Dear G- Nn-! Sa- Bloody hell, no!" Arthur replied, drawing his hand back. He looked up with wide eyes at Alfred, and stood up straight.

That earned him another strange look. "Tell me." the demon said again, and watched Arthur with a weird mixture of playfulness and confidence.

He glared. "Look. I just...Ugh." he rolled his eyes and collected his thoughts for a moment, crossing his arms. Alfred had a smug grin but patient eyes, and Arthur knew he couldn't get away now. "I just...I don't think we should fight, you know?" he feigned nervousness and uncertainty with the subject by averting his eyes to the ground. "The angels and...us...What are we fighting for, anyway? Why are we putting forth everything we have and killing and dying for this stupid, pointless war? Why can't we coexist?"

Alfred looked genuinely taken aback by his answer. "I...never thought of it that way before." he admitted, his eyebrows creasing guiltily. "All we know how to do is hate angels, and angels sure as hell know how to hate us. It's not easy to stop centuries of that, which is why I think it's never been considered." he laughed awkwardly. "I guess that is kind of a bad thing. There should be something done to stop it."

Internally, Arthur lit up and practically screamed with joy. 'Mercy is still alive and has spared my soul!' Externally, he was careful to hesitantly look up at the demon with a solemn expression. "Really? You feel that way?"

It took him a moment, but Alfred tentatively nodded. "Yea. I do. Should we...Should we be the ones who start doing something about it?" he asked, unsure of himself and obviously in need of guidance. Arthur understood completely; the very basis of Alfred's believed existence was being questioned, naturally he would seek help.

"I think we should." it was hard for him to hold back his answer, he had to look like he thought about it. "But we'll have to be careful. Opening the minds of everyone won't be easy, as you said."

That got him a grin. Arthur almost felt dizzy with absolute euphoria; this was almost too good to be true! He had an ally, a true one now that was willing to help him end the war! The weight that lifted itself from his shoulders was extraordinary. And, glancing over at the demons to his left across the rock they all stood on, he realised he might have a few more.

"Hey, Paranomia!" he heard Ivan call out, and Alfred turned as well to see what was happening. Somehow, they had found the peculiar thing Arthur was looking for, and it ended up being a book.

Arthur and Alfred quickly flew over. "What is it?" he asked, as a large book was handed to him, and it was uncomfortable to carry. He then answered his own question. "Ah. The human word is 'encyclopedia.'" he told them all as the group gathered around him. "So, while we're here, what should we look for first?"

Demons were actually very organised and knew how to handle themselves in large numbers, Arthur soon found out. It wasn't long before they had picked out certain dates and graves to look for, and split themselves into smaller groups to look for what they needed to find. He and Alfred went with Ivan and Basch to find the recently deceased angels and books about them, and Ludwig followed as well.

Alfred was dropping occasional ideas that he and Arthur had discussed earlier to the others, and they didn't seem to oppose in any way. He looked at Arthur each time, unaware of how he had to hold back several strange noises of utter delight each time.

The temple was quite a lovely place; it held relics of both kinds, and gorgeous decoration that was evidence of a time of peace. It was very fun to fly around; the demons Arthur was with seemed to enjoy themselves in a more genuine way, with a more positive mindset.

They found dates of the past few days on gravestones and Arthur found it quite amusing and very sad how hard the demons found it to pronounce all of the angel names. He would prefer his brothers be alive for such a silly time. To hide his mood, he made sure to pretend he was occupied with reading all of the books that the others couldn't, after they found out he could read several languages. He preferred not to read the words, because it was painful to imagine that all of these beautiful souls were sacrificed by Camael. He was still bothered that a Seraph he looked up to led the attack.

"Hey! Paranomia! Look at this one!" he heard Alfred's voice and peeked towards the demons ahead of them. Alfred was flying in circles around the large white marble mark, while the other three were trying to read what it said. "What's the name? Kah-mail? Kuh-my-all?"

Curious, Arthur approached the elegant monument, and then his heart nearly stopped.

~In loving memory of the Archangel Camael, the one who sees God~

O~o~O

'Help me.' He'd fallen on the inside.

That was the only way to put it. He'd sprinted back to the city with only a brief lie as to why he needed to leave, and almost fainted out of exhaustion once he was back to his lone alleyway. Hell was quiet, save for his pitiful cries that echoed around him.

"I tried to change the game, I tried to infiltrate, but now I'm losing!" he sobbed, stumbling aimlessly around the dead end and pulling at his red hair.

He realised that the angels in togas, the men in cloaks always seemed to be one step ahead of him. The moment he found something out, the more mysteries sprung up in its place. They always ran the show, like some sort of all-powerful system designed to play God. This wasn't a mission, this was ghosts and shadows trying to eat his soul!

The only thing he knew for certain was that he'd been lied to. None of this was for the good of everyone, and he didn't know who to trust anymore. He turned to the last thing he had.

"Mercy! Mercy!" he begged, falling on his knees and screaming a broken song. "Show me Mercy! From the powers that be! Show me Mercy! Can someone rescue me?"

He leant forward, covering his head with his hands as he sobbed uncontrollably for a little while, unable to form coherent words. The only thing he could think was how much he hated heaven, hated hell, hated the universe, hated God's absence, hated the silent tyranny. Most of all, he hated himself. His false image of Camael, the puppeteer who hypnotised the angels...All the angels had done was bring him down.

The switching spell. He hadn't even realised he had done it, but suddenly he was kneeling and praying as an angel to anyone that would listen. He had not sung for a long time, but he sang because it was the only thing he could do.

"Mercy! From the powers that be! Show me Mercy! From the gutless and mean! Show me Mercy! From the killing machines! Show me Mercy! Can someone rescue me!" he pleaded with all his might.

His journal lay untouched that night.

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Screams because this song gives me life* It's practically become my motto, 'Show me Mercy!' because I love this song so much XD Now, I liked the lyric video better than the music video for some odd reason, but Youtube doesn't appear to have that anymore...So the media is just the music video XD Mind you, the music video is still cool! I love it!
> 
> Aight! So! Major twist in the story, eh? Bet you did not expect that! 
> 
> Um, wow the vibes this song gives me XD I can't even begin to describe how much this means to me! :D Like I can imagine so vividly in my head, the performance version of this chapter how Arthur sings dramatically with his little alley as a stage...I dunno man it's really cool!! XD Listening to the song gives a whole new perspective of what happens! :D
> 
> ANYway, so the analysis; Arthur is begging for Mercy because it is the last thing an angel can do. He has nothing he can believe in (he's too panic-stricken to even think about Alfred right now) and he's afraid that God might not even be trustworthy. "Men in cloaks" are, of course, the angels, and he is slowly realising that all they have done so far is take the role of what demons used to be to him. He's also dreadfully confused, I mean, how do you look at the grave of someone you know for certain has to be alive? Sure, he could have died in the attack, but wouldn't Ludwig have told him if he did?
> 
> Nkri is Greek for Grey. What do you get when you mix black and white, or, in this case, angels and demons? ;)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Muse, Linkin Park, or any religious figured mentioned in this story~
> 
> I think that's all I have to say. Unless you want to read my attempts at describing Mercy and all it's glory, then I'll just stop XD
> 
> Thanks for reading!! :D
> 
> ~Madz


	13. Until It's Gone

O~o~O

The dark sky seemed too bright and the rain seemed too cold when Arthur woke up.

So bright and so cold, in fact, that he slowly brought his hands over his eyes to block it out. God, he felt terrible. It was probably because he was laying down on the cobblestone ground, strewn out haphazardly as if he'd fallen on his back and not bothered to get back up. It wasn't that far from the truth, he supposed, but it annoyed him. Everything annoyed him. He was tired, upset, angry, and lonely, which wasn't new, but it didn't lessen the blow.

He didn't remember when he'd switched back into his demon self, but he could feel the lack of matted feathers and a slight pressure on his head when he tilted his chin up and pressed his horns into the ground. He half-heartedly made his tail twitch, and wrinkled his nose in slight pain when his extended spine moved in a jagged way.

Thoughts were coming at him too quickly for him to understand, so he ignored them and opted to just lying flat as he was, listening to the whispers and murmurs of the rain falling around him. It was cold, Hell, it was so cold, and it stung to move. His mind was a cloudy mess, and he felt so dead. He was not familiar with the twisting of his emotions like this, his heart being wrung out like a damp towel.

"Shut up," he mumbled blearily to the silent, rainy streets, rolling over miserably and letting out a small noise that resembled a groan or a whimper.

...

"I...Didn't say anything?" came a reply, and Arthur nearly had a heart attack.

He sat up as fast as he could through his disoriented state, and immediately regretted it when the ache in his head rushed downward and spread, almost dropping him like a

weight. Dizzy, he looked dazedly around for the source of the voice, but only saw blurry wet shapes. "Wh-what the bloody hell?!" he managed to let out, his heart beating uncomfortably fast.

That was when a figure appeared directly in front of him, and he forgot how to breathe because of how startled he was. "Paranomia! Hey, are you alright?!" demanded the voice, laced with genuine concern. "I've been trying to wake you for ages!"

Arthur sputtered out a little bit of nonsense at first as an attempt to explain that he was very confused and very tired, but it came out as a lot of random sounding noises instead and resulted in him flinging around water that had pooled on him. It seemed to get his point across, though.

He was forced to stop flailing around when his arms were brought down and held firmly against his side, and he shut up for a moment, his head spinning. "Paranomia? Hey, buddy, are you okay?" the voice seemed tender and worried. His head rolled a little to the side and his eyes were still unfocused. "...A-Arthur?"

It took a moment of blinking and attempting to see straight before Arthur could identify Alfred in front of him. "I..." he could think slightly more clearly, and looked at the demon before him with hazy eyes. "I'm fine..."

Alfred nodded and sat back, having been very close to Arthur. He let go of his arms, but remained near him to steady Arthur when he swayed slightly to one side. "You've been asleep for a long time. I thought you were dead." his face was contorted with concern, and he scooted back forward on his knees to grasp Arthur before he could tip backwards. "The demons who were with us at the graveyard are still looking for you. I finally found you, thank Satan. What are you doing all the way back here? You're one of the really skilled demons, don't you have housing near the base?" he questioned with a frown.

Arthur slowly shook his head. "I live...I live here." he replied slowly, not really noticing Alfred's shocked face. "I'm sorry, I..." he shook his head slightly, still quite dizzy.

The demon hesitated, looking like he was debating heavily in his mind. He stared at Arthur's unsteady demeanor, seeming to want to back away, but eventually decided against it. He brought his hands behind Arthur's back and gently propped him forward, and let Arthur fall against him. That alone almost shocked Arthur into full awareness, and he wasn't prepared for when Alfred also held him closer, using his wings to shield them from the rain.

He listened with wide eyes at the gentle pattering sound from above him, the tips of his own wings just barely folded and resting on the hard ground. Needless to say, he did not expect this sudden act of kindness, mostly because it was what he really wanted. He needed something to hold, and something to hold him back, and it came from his childish desires in Heaven. All angels quietly wished for a gentle embrace, and they usually did not need to ask for it.

Mind reflecting back on the events of his last waking hours, he closed his eyes with a pained expression and slowly brought his own arms around Alfred. The demon probably had no idea what this meant to Arthur. It was soothing more than he could ever know, and Arthur very nearly broke down at the gesture.

"It's not alright, is it?" Alfred asked quietly, resting his chin on top of Arthur's soaked red hair. They held still, neither daring to do anything that would cause the other to move away. Arthur sighed silently, struggling to hold back tears as he shook his head in Alfred's jacket and clutched it a little tighter. His throat ached from all the sobs he was suppressing, but he knew it would be cataclysmic if Alfred saw him cry.

Alfred decided not to question it further and shifted slightly closer so that his thighs were underneath Arthur's knees, and it made it easier for him to pull Arthur nearer. "...You're trembling." he observed after a moment. "Are you cold or somethin'?"

There was no way Arthur could answer, and he panicked. Just before he could think about pulling back, Alfred sat back on his heels and opened the front of his jacket, as if to take it off. But he didn't, instead he leaned right back and pressed Arthur against him in such a way that made him have to hug Alfred on the inside of his jacket. It was a lot warmer, he realised, after getting over the initial surprise. The leather material was cold but the soft and fuzzy cloth on the inside was warm with Alfred's body heat. Arthur knew it was nothing close to an angel's, but it was better than anything he'd felt in too long.

Alfred didn't seem to mind when Arthur involuntarily snuggled closer.

A few peaceful moments had passed, hearing nothing but the now calming noise of the white rain, before Arthur realised he could think clearly now. God, it took that long. He then remembered the graveyard and the better part of what happened when he was last awake.

"...Did you find anything at the graveyard? A-after I left?" he asked, curious if the demons managed to get on without him.

Alfred shook his head and flicked his tail. "Nope. You left, and we kept looking like you wanted us to, but we didn't find any reason for the angels to attack like that. When we were done, we mourned for our lost brothers and sisters, and we told them you were there with us in spirit." he said in a slightly saddened voice.

His wings drooping even further, Arthur's face twisted with guilt. "I am sorry. Thank you." He'd seen too many gravestones to think it was a plain battle. It was a downright slaughter. He let himself simmer in his anger for a moment, his mixed emotions churning like a turbulent sea; he didn't know what was going on, and felt even more confused than ever. It frustrated him that with everything he found out, it led him deeper into a mess of lies and deceit.

"Paran- A-Arthur...?" Alfred tilted his head and looked down at him.

Arthur's tail curled up in a loose circle as he glanced up. "Mm?"

Alfred seemed vaguely suspicious. "Something...happened, didn't it? You left because you figured something out?" he narrowed his eyes curiously, searching Arthur's face for some kind of hint.

In return, the angel struggled not to give it away. He thought about telling him, and the entire story was on the tip of his tongue from beginning to end. 'Yes, Alfred. I found something; as it turns out, I've been a living lie because I'm actually an angel, but that's beside the point. That name I saw on the gravestone is the name of the Seraph that killed your brothers and sisters, and I'm dreadfully confused because there is no way he could be dead. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?' Ah, yes, that conversation would be just delightful.

"No." he said in a soft voice. "No, I did not find anything. I left because I realised I forgot that I had to do something here."

"Something so important that it left us confused as hell, and even more so when I find you laying in the middle of an alleyway, possibly dead?" Alfred countered quickly, but lacking in a seriously accusing tone.

Arthur looked down. "Yes. No. Maybe- I-I don't know! Look, Alfred. I did figure something out but it did not have to do with the attack! It was more personal than that." Well, at least it wasn't a complete lie. He hesitantly glanced up, expecting to be faced with a glare, but was instead faced with an expression of concerned curiosity. Alfred wanted to know what he meant; that was a given, but he wasn't going to pry further.

"Am I interrupting something?" a question rang out from behind Alfred.

The two quickly sat up and peered around to see Ludwig, hovering with his arms crossed a few metres from where they sat. His appearance was unexpected, that was for certain. Arthur tried to scramble off of Alfred and comb his red hair out of his eyes so he could see. "Er, no. You are not." he said carefully.

"Yea, dude. Paranomia just woke up. Took him forever, but he's fine now." Alfred explained, standing up with Arthur. Both facing Ludwig, they glanced at one another before returning their attention to the tall blonde demon.

"Very well. I will inform the others that Alfred has found you, Paranomia. Let us meet deeper in the city." Ludwig said, and then just as quickly as he came, he turned and took off flying the other direction.

Alfred's tail swished back and forth, and Arthur scratched the back of his head nervously as Ludwig left. They were silent, and Arthur assumed Alfred had no idea what to say either. The atmosphere became a bit awkward.

It was bugging Arthur to no end, keeping silent about his discovery. He had to say something about it, or at least give Alfred some sort of plausible reason for how he was acting. It wasn't like it was easy to hide an existential crisis, after all. But with all that happened, he couldn't sum it up without leaving unanswered questions. Alfred was bound to wonder about his extensive knowledge of the Angelicans, and so was everyone else.

He remembered that Alfred had agreed with his feelings on ending the war, and that he was willing to help do something about it. Maybe that gave him a little bit of an edge at least, perhaps his case wouldn't be that bad...

Sucking up what little courage he had left, he turned stiffly to Alfred. The demon blinked and looked at him, still looking worried from before. "There is something I need to tell you." Arthur said lowly.

He waited until Alfred nodded and turned his body to face him, giving Arthur his full attention. "Yea? What's up?" God, his normally friendly appearance suddenly looked ominous and threatening, and Arthur suddenly felt very small.

Arthur made a nervous expression and looked off to the side, unable to meet the blue eyes before him. "The reason I left...I...I-it's because I have been thinking for awhile and I might have finally figured something out." he said slowly, and avoided Alfred's patient gaze. "Remember what we last talked about? Halting the war? I-I think it will be more complicated than we can imagine, because the angels are not who we think they are."

Alfred looked confused. "Who are they, then?" he asked, tilting his head.

It was so hard to put all of what exactly he wanted to say all together. Making it into one long explanation without slipping up or forgetting something would be hard, but there was no going back now. Fear was clawing at his heart, and he knew it when his breath caught as Alfred peered at him. Flashbacks to when he was choking against the cold, cruel walls of the base blinded his mind's eye long enough to scare himself visibly.

The demon must have noticed Arthur's panicked look, because he blinked and his eyebrows creased worried lines in his forehead. "Arthur? What's wrong?"

"I-I, sorry, I just..." Arthur sighed deeply and put his hands on his hips, his tail lashing limply behind him while he looked away in discomfort. "It is really complicated."

To his surprise, Alfred nodded slowly. "Let's catch up with the others," he said, raising his wings. "We can just not go to the base today. How about we go to Earth and you can explain it to me there?"

That wasn't expected. Slightly dumbfounded, Arthur looked up at Alfred. "Earth?" Not that he was opposed, he just had not been on the human plane for a long time.

"Yea!" Alfred grinned. "There aren't usually any other demons or angels around, and the humans can't see us anyway. I like to show up on Earth sometimes because it's the one solitary place I can go. Plus, it's kinda fun to mess with the humans sometimes..." he snickered.

A small, reluctant smile found its way to Arthur as well, because Alfred's happiness was slightly contagious. "Alright, then. Let us tell the others, like you said, before we drop off the face of Hell." he agreed.

O~o~O

While Arthur was still trying to figure out his place, seeing as he had no basis of belief whatsoever anymore, he still found himself investing a lot of trust in Alfred. Maybe it was because he was so desperate for something to rely on, and it was all he could do to pray it didn't end with a dagger in his back. He'd already had the floor, his stability, swept from under him like a ratty old carpet, stained with years and years of meaningless promises. He felt like he had nothing left to lose, save for his life, perhaps.

But...Did that matter? Did his life matter at all?

He pondered this as he followed Alfred through the city, balancing his concentration on weaving and diving around corners and obstacles, as well as the disappointing and discouraging truths that scrambled up in his head. His life truly did not matter to the ones who mattered to him, and he was very nearly sure of that. He had yet to accept it, seeing as it occurred to him so suddenly. But he had to come to terms with the fact that he was never important. Not to Heaven, not to God, not to anyone. He then realised, with a deeply hurt wince, that he was not sent down to Hell to undertake a heroic and noble mission. He was simply cast out of Heaven.

'But why...? What did I do wrong...?' he felt himself tearing up and shut his eyes to make it go away. He couldn't cry now, not anymore. 'Did I mess up? Am I even an angel? Or am I a fallen angel now? Oh, God, I do not know...'

His eyes became dull. Of bloody course it had to come to this. What was he even doing? Was he supposed to live out his miserable life in Hell, never to feel the sweet rays of sunshine or the gentle compassion of angels ever again? Was he supposed to become a demon? Was he supposed to die, or be dead already? Was he just prolonging the inevitable? Arthur felt broken. 'Why, why, why?'

'"Paranomia? Hey, buddy, are you okay?"' Alfred's voice from earlier rang in his mind, startling him out of his negative words. '"You've been asleep for a long time. I thought you were dead."'

Arthur's expression became one of tired, confused sorrow. '"It's not alright, is it?"' No, it never was and never will be. '"Something...happened, didn't it? You left because you figured something out?"' It is more than you can ever understand. '"Something so important that it left us confused as hell, and even more so when I find you laying in the middle of an alleyway, possibly dead?"'

He had been worried. The meaning of Alfred's words were sinking in, and Arthur looked away guiltily. Someone did care after all.

"Dudes!" Alfred's actual voice startled him out of his deeper thoughts, and he looked up to see the demon waving at a group circling a massive charcoal-coloured building. Arthur was very nearly entranced with how high up the structure reached, almost like the jagged glass tips of it could graze the grey, rainy sky. "Hey, we're coming!"

He gestured for Arthur again, and they both picked up the pace a little until they reached the giant, skyscraping, slick edifice. They all landed in a crevice near the top, and the altitude normally wouldn't have bothered Arthur if he didn't have to look down so far. A bit distracted, he watched the water fall and wondered how terrifying it would be to be a droplet, plunged to the unforgiving depths to end its life as abruptly as it started. He then wondered if that was how he was cast out of Heaven, like a simple rain drop, only to die when he landed in Hell. Depressed by the sudden allusion, Arthur pursed his lips and turned back to the deeper part of the holed-out indent, lowering his wings dejectedly.

The rest of the soaking demons who glided in were some of the survivors of the attack, and some of his allies from the base. It surprised him when he realised they all looked sort of relieved to see him, as if they had been concerned for his well-being like Alfred. Not likely, he began to think, but that was before he received a tight embrace from one of them.

"Paranomia!" she gasped, just before he was taken into a bone-crushing hug by the slightly taller demon. Jesus, how many of them were taller than him? He awkwardly patted her back in return, smiling through a wince at how hard she was squeezing him. "We looked everywhere for you! Are you okay?!"

"Bloody hell," he muttered into the shoulder of her uniform. "Er, I'm fine. Th-there is really no cause for concer-!"

"Of course there is, darling!" she interrupted, leaning back just for a moment to allow him to breathe before she hugged him even tighter, making him squish his shoulders uncomfortably. "We're all worried about our leader! Aren't we?" she looked around, unaware of Arthur's alarmed expression.

A couple of them were laughing at the funny faces Arthur was making, trying half-heartedly to squirm away. But they all nodded in general agreement with the dark-complected demon who had him trapped in her arms. It was clear, then, that they all looked up to him, and normally he would take that seriously. That is, if he wasn't at risk of his spine snapping.

His panicked gaze found Alfred, who was struggling and failing to hide hysterical laughter. His tail swishing stiffly due to his back being compressed, he tried opening his wings only to discover she had him trapped there firmly as well. He couldn't ask him for help, or even mouth 'help me' because half of his face was smothered by the demon. But his wide and slightly unnerved eyes seemed to be understandable enough.

Alfred grinned, sticking his tongue out at Arthur and earning a glare. "Alright, haha!" he laughed a little obnoxiously, stretching out his own wings. "Well, me and Ar- Paranomia were going to go somewhere else today, and we just met with you guys to let y'all know he's still alive. So we gotta go."

"But you just got here," the other demon whined, reluctantly letting go of Arthur. She seemed oblivious to how he stumbled a good distance away from her and rubbed his back painfully, cracking some of the bones in his wings like knuckles. "Don't you guys ever take it easy?" she asked over a particularly loud crash of thunder, looking around at the small assembly of demons around them

"That would be a no," Arthur replied quickly, before Alfred could open his mouth. He then decided to take advantage of his authority to make everyone else useful, or at least distracted until he could figure out what to do with himself. "Anyway, I would appreciate it if you discuss the attack while you are here. If you were there, tell the others of what you saw. It will be good for when Alfred and I return to tell me about it, and I will tell you what I know. Maybe we will get some answers this time around, yes?"

He was not used to being in charge, he knew that. He still half-expected them all to ignore, or even mock him. Instead, they stared and listened to him intently, and nodded when he was done to agree. He felt he would never get used to anyone taking him seriously.

"Alright, then." he could not contain a slightly exhilarated grin at his group. It was then he was realising that he was unconsciously building back up his purpose, and giving himself something to fight for. He was his own ruler, and they would follow. "Come on, Alfred, let's go."

And they were gone, just like that. They turned and jumped up with their wings to dive off the side of the building together, headed to an ever-changing foreign and exciting place Arthur had only been a few times.

A glance at Alfred was enough to prove he was not the only one who was pleased. For different reasons, probably, but Alfred was smiling in a strikingly and spreading upbeat way.

'"Forgot you had a team, huh?"' This time, Arthur welcomed Alfred's past words. It seemed like a long time since they had met, but it really had not been at all. He remembered how his vision had gradually focused on Alfred the day he had caught him when Arthur almost fell. '"Anyways, dude what was that? You do have a group, you know. Goin' in all Sparta might work for you, but I think we gotta plan how we're gonna win this thing. I mean, you're the leader of our group, right? Whatever you say goes!"'

The cloudiness of Arthur's mood began to filter out, and, feeling the cool wind pulling through him, he listened to their swift wings slice through the air. For a moment, Arthur played with the thought that Alfred was the only good thing about his Hell. '"I really admire how strong you are. You could probably take on an entire legion of angels! Also, you're the only one who had survived my, uh, Rage. I don't know how, but you did. I think you're a little more powerful than you let on, yea? Anyway, I would...I would like to request Opia."' He was kind...Kinder than the angels in some cases. For a moment, Arthur panicked as his fond memories of Heaven became slightly darker, and he clung to the one thing that could make it all better right then. '"You're an odd case. Just like me. Everyone knows you're, like, super powerful! But you aren't cruel like most strong demons are. You can be kind too, and I like that about you."'

'Yes,' Arthur thought with a tentative gentleness. 'You can be too, you little git.'

Alfred seemed to pick up on his mixed mood as he led him around the city towards the Southeast, or at least that was what Arthur had guessed. He glanced over every time Arthur gave off some sort of smile, and again when he sensed Arthur's gloomy and dispirited mood change. The demon looked like he wanted to ask, but he seemed to respect boundaries like a physical wall between them. Another stark difference between angels and demons; an angel would probably already know what was upsetting Arthur, because they tended to be curious creatures with next to no concept of privacy. Not that Arthur minded it either way.

In a way, Arthur found the areas they were flying through to be beautiful. Gradually, as he'd lived in Hell, the grey sky had become aesthetically pleasing and complimentary to the rough stone surfaces. The grotesque statues, the rugged and complicated streets, it all melded into something close to Arthur. He could appreciate what frightened him.

Well, mostly.

He wasn't sure if he could bring himself to hate Heaven, even though he now regarded the once pleasant place with fear. He felt deceived, split, and confused. What could he do? Pretend like it never happened and continue with this nonexistent mission? Feign ignorance, as if the archangel he once looked up to wasn't up to something? Or should he find a new purpose? Was there anyone out there who he could look to for guidance?

"No," he accidentally mumbled aloud. "No, it is just me now."

Alfred looked over at him, panting a little like Arthur. "Huh?"

The surprise that crossed his face went unnoticed by the demon. "N-nothing."

With a shrug, Alfred made a sharp right turn that Arthur easily imitated with a deft twist of his wings, and then slowed down his pace. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he looked at Arthur and gestured upwards, where the clouds appeared to ripple instead of meander with each other like they normally did.

"That's a magic portal the angels abandoned," Alfred explained, and suddenly snickered. "They keep wondering how we manage to make it to Earth, because they forgot about it too. It's really kinda funny how they get so confused when they find us around humans."

Arthur glanced at him with an amused smirk. "Oh? What do they say if they find you?"

The demon laughed and posed like he was drawing back an arrow. "'You are not supposed to be here, devilish and heinous creature! Begone, or I shall be forced to smite thee!'" he imitated the eloquent speech of an angel as if it had happened lots of times. "'Let the humans be, and do no more corruption. If you are ever here again, you will surely be defeated by my hand. Out of Mercy, I will allow thee to keep thy life.'"

Shaking his head, Arthur chuckled and flicked his tail. "Charming," he remarked, and Alfred stuck his tongue out at him.

"Come on then, Mister Charming, what are we waiting for?" Alfred sneered teasingly, and poked Arthur's nose before abruptly flapping his wings and bolting upwards. "Race ya!"

"Why you little-!" Arthur growled and tore after him, grinning widely. Their wings spread and tilted forwards slightly for leverage, and, just before they could hit the portal, Arthur slowed down and evened with Alfred because he knew he could ascend faster.

Caught up in the moment, and with both of them laughing at each other, they did not realise they had passed through until Arthur went quiet and his expression became one of absolute awe. Alfred looked that way as well, and he gazed around with almost as much wonder as Arthur.

A few moments of being fascinated and distracted by all of the pretty lights and blackness of the sky passed before Alfred could say "I never get tired of this place..."

Arthur only hummed and nodded in agreement, smiling fondly at the world beneath them. He had only a few memories of encounters with humans, and they all had ended so well. They could feel the heavy but warm wind around them, which Arthur was grateful for, and he found the rushing noise below to be calming.

Earth held some of the most mesmerising and dark things, and there was not any question as to why demons and angels were so captivated, and why they loved to explore and see more of the human kind. Tragically beautiful children, was how God had referred to them.

A sudden thought came to Arthur's mind as both he and Alfred gazed at the city of blinding lights. "I did not know what I had until it was gone..." he murmured to himself, too softly for Alfred to hear. "I did not know what I never had." He also did not know why looking down upon a colourful planet brought back his empty and purposeless feeling.

His face wrenching in sorrow for himself, he wrung his hands and glanced up towards the unforgiving oily sky, where the stars were nowhere to be seen. He did not have a place in the universe. And he was not sure if he could make himself one anymore, not when he felt this lonely. There was no way he could take on all of the bad things in existence by himself, and there was no one left to love. There never was, and he had to keep correcting his mentality. He would be better off letting the evils of the world take over and conceding to the powers that be.

He felt himself tearing up as he looked hopelessly up at the moon. He had nothing left. He was stripped of everything he treasured, but long before he knew it. It was killing him.

"Hey." Alfred's voice brought him back to Earth.

Arthur blinked, and looked over to the demon, who had glanced up at him. "Yes?"

"Listen." the demon said in a low voice, and pointed down towards the centre of the city, where the most lights and sounds came from. "I don't know what's going on down there, wanna find out?"

A slightly excited nod and a grin from both of them was what brought them diving at an impossible speed. The wind was wilder than it was in Hell, and the height was one of thrilling extent. They shrieked and laughed all the way down, squinting and smiling.

They reached the top of a shiny building with ease, messing with their wind-blown hair and stretching out their wings. Arthur was not sure about Alfred, but he knew his heart was racing out of excitement. The only thought in his mind was how fun and exhilarating that was, and he could allow himself to forget the loneliness for awhile.

Shaking his head out to get rid of the dizziness, Alfred nudged Arthur with his elbow. "That was awesome!" he grinned, and laughed with Arthur as they stumbled around to find balance. "We can just forget all the serious things for now, yea? Let's stop thinking bad stuff and have some fun!"

Oh. Arthur looked over to Alfred, inwardly shocked. He did that on purpose? After thinking it over, Arthur realised Alfred must have noticed he was looking upset and decided to do something fun to take his mind off it.

That was why angels thought demons were only cruel and manipulative...Demons were kind but indirectly. Little things, unspoken things for their friends. An amazingly mislead misconception was what it was, and Arthur almost laughed.

"Yes," he agreed. "Let's have some fun."

They peeked over the edge of the building, listening to the louder city sounds. Arthur could hear what Alfred had mentioned earlier, and grinned down at the sight below. He would let Alfred guess.

"Dude!" he exclaimed soon after, and he pointed fiercely to the gathering of humans. "That thing! You were talking about that thing!" he leaned over the wall, almost looking like a child. He could recognise the harmonic sounds, he'd just forgotten how to name it.

It looked like a massive celebration. The lights were concentrated around four particular humans, and the rest of them were bouncing and yelling, gathered closely on the streets. Arthur rested his chin in his palm as he listened to the cheers and the music. They were at a concert.

"He's-he's doing that thing!" Alfred got a little more excitable, evident by his tail practically wagging and him waving wildly at the scene. "But with words! That thing that angels do!"

"He's singing," Arthur replied with a small smile. "Those are not just words. He is singing lyrics. Sometimes songs have words in them, and sometimes they do not. It's a traditional practice all over Earth, and all human cultures have some form of music."

"Music?" Alfred asked incredulously. "Why? What's so great about it? Is singing fun? Why are they all screaming?"

A laugh escaped Arthur. "It's entertainment and something to do for fun. Listening or making music appears to bring joy to humans either way. And I...I do not really understand why they are screaming. I do not think they are in pain, though."

This entire conversation seemed to be news to Alfred. "Oh." he said dumbly. "Well, what's he saying? And how come that guy gets to bang on stuff? Those other two are standing there with really weird and shiny sticks."

"Those are musical instruments!" Arthur said while laughing a little harder. "The sticks have strings on them that make pleasant sound, and that's the weird distorted part other than the voice. It's called a guitar, I think." Pointing at the other two, he began to explain their purpose. "He's not randomly being destructive, I don't think. Those cylinders keep a beat to the song. And that other man is playing a bass, which is a sort of foundation for the tune. Does that make sense?"

Alfred scrunched his face in thought. "Uh, kinda. The guy who's banging stuff...He's a drummer, I think, because demons do that beat stuff." he said thoughtfully. "But the guy in the front also has a stick. Is that a kind of amplifier?"

Arthur nodded. "It makes his voice louder without magic. Listen to what he is singing."

They both fell silent, and it only took a moment for them to begin to hear the words.

"It's already gone too far, who said that if you go in hard, you won't get hurt?" Arthur did not know the name of the man who was singing, but he knew that he had the voice of an angel. He had an inherently beautiful tone, and it rang so well in Arthur's ears. "Jesus, could you take the time, to throw a drowning man a line? Peace on Earth..."

He kept singing, but Arthur could no longer hear the words. He stopped listening, and got lost in thought. He was filled with that grief again, and he yearned for forgiveness from those whom he did not know anymore. That he never did know. 'Cause you don't know what you've got, until it's gone...' he thought like before. He had security, he had placement, he had purpose, he had happiness, he had hope, he had almost everything.

And now it was gone.

Yet, he had nothing. He never did. But he felt like he had it. The truth was slow to dawn on him, like the sun over the horizon. He had spent all of his time thinking he deserved every ounce of pain he received, and now, he knew it was unjust. Now he knew he would not be content falling this way.

With a searing glare at nothing in particular, it became clear to him.

He had to do something.

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huahuahua you nerds expected a Muse song ;P Well, actually I did too. I literally changed the chapter yesterday because I heard this song for the first time and my mind went like "!!!!!!!!!???!?!?!??!??!??!" and so I changed the name, the length, and the idea XD Luckily I did not have to rewrite anything, just keep the direction straight. Purely for pacing purposes :D Next chapter, things will begin to go down! And it will be a Muse song XD
> 
> So the idea for this chapter is a bit self explanatory; Arthur did not know what he had until it was gone, but it's deeper than that because he never actually had it :P It was an illusion. The song is a little repetitive(and rightfully so, I think it's a great song :D) so I didn't do much lyrical input this time. But there is a verse that is spot on! It goes like;
> 
> "I thought I kept you safe and sound
> 
> I thought I made you strong
> 
> But something made me realise
> 
> That I was wrong...
> 
> 'Cause finding what you've got sometimes
> 
> Means finding it alone
> 
> And I can finally see your light
> 
> When I let go..."
> 
> If Arthur sang this song, he would be referring to Heaven in the first half. He thought he made the Angelicans strong, and he thought he was bigger than he was. But he realised he was wrong, so yea :P Now he thinks he doesn't matter, poor baby :( He found out alone, and then the 'light' gets a little complicated. Light could mean the truth about Heaven(which he still doesn't actually know all of), or it could mean Alfred ;)
> 
> There is another band mentioned in this chapter XD You might have heard of them, they are called U2 :D The song was called Peace on Earth, and it makes my heart hurt ;-; U2 has unfair powers over me XD Anyways, yea, the band is very famous and it happens to be my favourite band of all time :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Muse, Linkin Park, or U2. Nor do I own Hetalia, religious references, or the cover image. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! I hope this chapter made you laugh through the sadness :)
> 
> ~Madz


	14. Unnatural Selection

The late night was filled with playful laughter and joyful grins.

Their senses were overwhelmed by everything Earth had to offer. There were so many blinding lights, so many deafening sounds, so many intoxicating scents, and the air even tasted different than in Hell. It was a wondrous experience, and Arthur did not remember the last time he had felt such childish joy. Alfred seemed a little giddy with excitement himself, as he was beginning to get clumsy like Arthur while they chased each other around.

Everything was loud and incomprehensible; Arthur and Alfred tore down streets, weaving in between lots of heavy rolling metallic objects and twirling around buildings and laughing the entire time. It was a game of some sort, with no rules and no spoken words. Just thrilled and exhilarated laughter as they randomly alternated chasing each other, as if they did not need to communicate at all. Their wide and crooked and goofy smiles were all that was needed.

They explored and played around like children, wrestling in the sky and tackling near the ground. It went on for hours and hours, wearing down on their impressive endurance, and flew like they did as mere blurs.

It was called night. Where angels lived in eternal day, demons lived in eternal night. Arthur was too excited and wound up to be jealous that the humans got both.

The night was glorious. Their game was legendary.

Somewhere late into the time, their strength wore out, and they collapsed on top of a short squat building near the portal. Barely able to lift themselves with their wings over the rim, they tumbled on the hard ground and rolled with each other like animal cubs, still giggling at each other with the leftover thrill.

“That…” panted Alfred, giving up and lying on his back. “...Was awesome!”

“Yes,” Arthur agreed breathlessly, mindlessly dragging himself on top of the demon as if to wrestle him some more. Half-heartedly pinning him down, he gave a tired smirk. “We should come to Earth more often…”

Alfred’s eyes lit up. “Yea! We...We totally should! We could…” he struggled for breath, giggling when Arthur began poking his sides. “W-we could make this a thing! Like we...come here e-every...Every time we can-! A-Arthur, stop!” he began laughing harder when Arthur tickled him.

“Make me, you...You git!” Arthur panted, unable to stop himself from chuckling. Alfred squirmed and laughed, trying to push Arthur’s hands away.

He only stopped when he began laughing too hard to use his hands, and he rested against Alfred for a moment, both of their figures shaking with their mirth. There was no particular reason that Arthur could name as to why, but everything about their situation was just so funny. They didn’t stop laughing for awhile.

When it eventually did get quiet again, Arthur forgot to move off of Alfred. At first, he felt intrusive and wrong, seeing as Alfred was a demon and all. But Alfred didn’t move, so Arthur gradually relaxed and closed his eyes, his arms folding closely to rest his head on Alfred’s torso. It was...Nice. Although it wasn’t completely, he felt like the both of them were perfectly comfortable with one another. Was this what being friends with a demon meant? That they had total and complete trust in each other?

Arthur thought he rather liked the closeness. It was reminiscent of when he was a small angel, when Heaven was still good. Of when no matter where he was, there was always someone to hug and play with. Of when he did not need to know a single angel’s name in the vast stretches of Heaven to be comfortable snuggling up with one or a few for a nap.

He absentmindedly wondered if Alfred would mind napping with him. Although it probably wasn’t worth the risk; he was already suspicious by how long he saw Arthur sleep last time. Sleeping together would be a catastrophe. Alfred only needed to sleep for two hours, so what would he think if Arthur slept four times longer than he did? That was just a disaster waiting to happen.

Opening his eyes to sneak a glance at the demon, he found that Alfred’s face was aimed skyward, but his eyes were shut. Arthur doubted he was sleeping; he could feel Alfred’s regular breathing since his arms rested on the demon’s lungs. He thought it was a bit of a sweet gesture, seeing as Alfred at least trusted him enough to rest his eyes around him.

Arthur didn’t want to feel like he was always treading on a strand full of broken glass, but it always seemed that way around almost everyone. The only instance he didn’t at all was around Alfred, and perhaps that was why he enjoyed the demon’s company so much. He was basically all Arthur had left, the only one he could smile and be genuinely happy around.

He was beginning to sound selfish. All of his new and old ideals were contrasting and confusing and it required too much thinking to sort it all out at once. Recalling those sweet, Heavenly naps, Arthur let his eyes close once more. Now that he thought about it, he was starting to feel a little drowsy…

“Hey, Para...Arthur?” Alfred’s quiet voice pulled him out of his mind.

Arthur opened one eye to look at him. “Hm?” he adjusted his arms, and watched as Alfred lifted his head slightly.

“You mentioned something earlier...” Alfred began to sit up let out a big yawn, showing off his sharp fangs. Sliding off of him, Arthur made a move to sit up as well and listened. “Ahh...Something serious...About the Angelicans.”

Oh. Right. Arthur had very nearly forgot the reason they were on Earth in the first place. Scratching the back of his head, he winced inwardly at how they managed to spend hours doing exactly what they had not come to do. “I believe I did, yes.” he agreed, stifling his own yawn.

“Okie dokie…” Alfred stretched, pulling his arms high above his head, before reaching over and tugging on Arthur’s uniform strap. Confused, Arthur simply gave him a weird look, until Alfred pulled on it harder and ended up scooting Arthur closer. Then he forcefully leaned forward to rest his forehead on Arthur’s shoulder, wiggling until he was comfortable.

“Ah. Um.” was all Arthur got out, and made an expression that was a cross of confusion and amusement when Alfred grinned and nudged him with his wing and tail. “Alright, first of all, your horns are poking me and that hurts,” he teased, and Alfred laughed but adjusted his head so his horns didn’t press into him anymore.

Overcome with what he could only describe as surprised but joyful pride, he didn’t dare move in any way so Alfred didn’t sit up. Unable to pin a word to his emotions, he looked downward at the demon resting on him and tried to hide a broad smile. He couldn’t even begin to explain why the gesture made him so happy. Maybe it was because it was good to feel trusted? It was probably somewhere along those lines, but regardless, Arthur was content.

Alfred sighed deeply against him. “So, what’s that serious thing? About the angels?”

Arthur’s smile fell. “Yes, yes, that…” he trailed off, trying to put his words together carefully. “It’s become slightly complicated, what I’m about to explain to you. I hope you understand if it’s not exactly clear.”

“Mmhm.” Alfred made the noise to indicate he meant ‘yes.’

With a slight nod to reassure himself, Arthur began to think about what he didn’t want to. The lies, the empty promises, the entire hoax of his existence. He thought about all the false kindness and meaningless words, all to make him out for a fool. ‘But no longer,’ he thought bitterly, and felt himself begin to boil with cold rage. He felt the need to stand, and leaned away from Alfred slightly, making the demon lift his head, and then brought himself to his feet so he could do just that. He began to pace with purpose, his jaw clenched in aggravation.

Unable to channel his uncracked codes into fully understandable words, he began to speak in an odd and unintendedly poetic way. “They’ll laugh as they watch us fall,” he hissed lowly. “The lucky don’t care at all...No chance for fate, it’s unnatural selection, and I want the truth.”

Alfred sat up straight and cocked his head to the side, listening carefully. Arthur was breathing slightly more forcefully now, as if holding back a fit of rage. “I’m hungry for some unrest, I want to push it beyond a peaceful protest! I want to speak in a language that they’ll understand,” he snarled. “Dedication to a new age, is this the end of destruction and rampage? Another chance to erase it, then repeat it again…”

The demon placed his hands on his knees, observing Arthur with a peculiar stare. “History repeats itself…” he murmured. “At least that’s what the humans say.”

“Counter-balance this commotion, we’re not droplets in the ocean...Ocean…” Arthur continued, and noticed his voice shaking slightly out of sheer fury. “They’ll laugh as they watch us fall! The lucky don’t care at all! No chance for fate, it’s unnatural selection! I want the truth!” he repeated from before, pacing a little more harshly. Alfred seemed to notice his trembling.

“No religion or mind virus! Is there a hope that the facts will ever find us? Just make sure that you are looking out for number one,” Arthur quavered angrily. “I’m hungry for some unrest, Let us push it beyond a peaceful protest, I want to speak in a language that you will understand…”

At that, Alfred looked up, meeting his livid green eyes with an intimidated and baffled stare while Arthur continued speaking aggressively. Alfred was still sitting, so Arthur was looking down at him. Alfred did not interrupt when he went on.

“They’ll laugh as they watch us crawl! The lucky don’t share at all! No hope for fate! It’s a random chance selection! I want the truth!” Arthur wasn’t able to stand on the ground any longer and abruptly spread his wings, which startled Alfred enough into making him back up a bit, and flew upward. He flew in a few furious circles while Alfred slowly brought himself to his feet, and watched the human sun begin to rise before it was curtained by dark grey clouds.

Alfred half-heartedly glided over to him and looked up as if he was smelling the city air. He didn’t say anything, seeming to guess that Arthur wasn’t done yet. But his slightly worried look suggested that he had never seen Arthur this angry or passionate before, but Arthur didn’t want to come off as frightening.

There was a slightly serene moment of silence between them, the only noise being the rushing life below. Arthur’s thoughts were absolutely churning with rage now, and he could barely find words to express all of what he needed to get across.

Making a slightly desperate expression, he spoke with a suddenly quiet and broken voice. “Try...To ride out the storm...Whilst they’ll make you believe...They are the special ones…” he sighed and landed, glaring at the dawn while crouching for a brief moment on the edge of the building. “We have not been chosen…”

When Arthur jumped off and began to fly back the way they had come awhile ago, Alfred was quick to follow and flapped his wings rapidly to make up the slight distance between them. He looked like he was still trying to wrap his head around what Arthur was saying.

“Injustice is the norm! You won’t be the first, and know you won’t be the last…” Arthur muttered out of spite when Alfred caught up. “Counter balance this commotion, we’re not droplets in the ocean, ocean, ocean…!” he insisted darkly.

It startled Alfred when he looked up and yelled accusingly at the sky, flying higher than before. “They’ll laugh as they watch us fall! And the lucky, they don’t care at all! No chance for fate, it’s unnatural selection! I want the truth! I want the truth!”

He flew upward and roared towards the heavens. “Damn it, I want the truth! I want the truth!” His voice flew over the city, travelling as far as his rage would take it, and echoed back softly. It snapped him out of his furious trance, and he looked down from where he was flying at an anxious looking Alfred.

He probably didn’t make any sense at all. Mirroring Alfred’s expression, Arthur spiraled back down to him, tucking his wings and tail back shamefully, and opened his mouth to apologise when they continued slowly onwards back to the portal.

“Dude,” Alfred said before he could. “I thought the angels were right in all they did. With all they declared, I really was beginning to be convinced that demons really shouldn’t exist…” he mumbled off to the side.

Arthur’s eyes widened. “S-seriously?!” Without even thinking, he fluttered in front of him and stopped Alfred in mid-air, both of them now bobbing in the air. “What the hell could even make you begin to believe that?! You git, of course you matter! Everything alive has value in the universe, and you cannot think of everything as black and white! It’s not that simple! I don’t know what kind of bloody angel would say that, but Heaven’s first and foremost belief is that all life matters!”

Alfred’s taken aback look was to be expected. “Y-yea, but…” he said weakly. “Y-you just said they were lying…”

Maneuvering himself back slightly with his wings, Arthur crossed his arms. “It’s...It’s really complicated, Alfred. Angels are bound by certain rules of idealism and perfection. But after...er...recent events of which I cannot disclose easily to you, I have realised it might be false. Angelicans might be hiding behind an innocent and glorious image, but I am not entirely sure yet. That attack...It was unprovoked as far as I know. They have no reason to make any sort of offensive move, and I am suspicious. I think something might be happening that could threaten all of dem- ah- O-our kind…”

“How can you know all that?” Alfred asked, blinking in confusion after thinking it over. “You know an awful lot for a demon.”

A bit defensively out of fear of being found out, Arthur growled back. “Like I said, I do not know everything! I want the truth, I want to know what is going on! I feel like I am being lied to and I do not like it!”

Alfred held up his hands in submission, and sounded slightly breathless. “Hell, dude, sorry. You have a point. The Angelicans are beginning to act suspiciously, but I think the Demonocracy is up to some pretty dark stuff too. I’m just curious.”

“Rightfully so, I suppose,” Arthur huffed and looked out over the horizon, ignoring the blurry streets below. “It does not feel right. Nothing about any of it. Ugh…” he sighed roughly aloud. “I- this- probably is not making any sense, is it? I think I am as confused as you are…” he rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand.

The demon nodded and fiddled with his tail. “I think I get the jist of what you’re sayin’. But, um…” he looked towards the sun again, watching it brawl with the clouds. “What do ya say we go ahead and go back to Hell? I’m starting to get a little overheated…” he panted.

Raising his eyebrows, Arthur glanced over to see that Alfred was indeed sheened with sweat on his face, and his face was a little pink from the effort of flying in place. He’d thought it was nice out, just a little warm. But granted, they were wearing all black, and demons preferred the cold. He’d forgotten how different their bodies were. “O-of course! Let us return,” he agreed a little too quickly.

He gestured for Alfred to follow as he whirled around and flew rather hastily back the way they had come. His wings catching once more on the rapid city air, he was reminded of what it was like to fly as an angel. Now he wasn’t sure whose side he was on.

Glancing with uncertain eyes at the demon flying beside him, he wondered. ‘What am I fighting for now?’ Grimly then, with a cold stare onwards, he knew. ‘I am fighting for the truth. I am fighting for what I originally came to do, and I fully intend to do it.’

“You! What are you doing here?!”

O~o~O

“Francis! Francis!” a shrill voice rang out, startling a few napping angels from their peaceful rest. “Francis! Where are you?!”

The young archangel looked panic-stricken, and flew hurriedly over the field of clouds that angels of many different kinds slept upon. Most of the angels had gorgeous dark skin and hair, with wings that were striped, coloured to match their eyes, or even dusted with the colour of their magic after years of experience. He, however, was looking for a particular pale angel with long blonde hair and creamy-coloured wings.

A few angels responded to his call, and pointed him in a few different directions to where they last saw the commander. But it took the slender angel several calls until he could find the Power.

“Mmnn...Oui, Feliciano? What is it?” Francis asked groggily, waking up slowly and rubbing his eyes.

Feliciano landed next to Francis, who had been sprawled elegantly across a particularly puffy and comfortable looking cloud. He knelt down, assisting Francis in sitting up, and waiting politely for him to be ready for his urgent word.

At a nod, he began to babble rapidly. “I cannot find Zadkiel anywhere! He disappeared after the attack, and Camael will not assist me in my search! He simply stated that Zadkiel was doing some work on Earth for him. He knew about Arthur! What if Camael cast him out of heaven?! Arthur is angry now, furious with Heaven! He believes angels are bad and that we have malevolent plans for the future! Francis, what are we going to do?!” he shrieked, not even bothering to be quiet about it.

Francis blinked tiredly at Feliciano, barely able to process anything he’d just said. “Feli…” he sighed softly. “I need a little bit of time to wake up.”

Practically in tears, Feliciano nodded miserably. “Ve, o-okay…” he sat back and let Francis have room to stretch.

Francis thought about what Feli had said, trying to make sense of it. Yawning and stretching his wings, he made a move to stand up and cast an apologetic look to all the angels who were awakened by Feliciano’s yelling.

Bouncing on his heels and eagerly waiting, Feli waiting with an agitated look on his face. “Francis...This is really important…” he whined.

“Oui, oui, I know.” Francis replied soothingly, and gestured for Feli to stand. “Come, join wings with me.”

The two angels flew with somewhat dark expressions on their faces, both of them looking haunted. Not many of the others seemed to notice them, which was not surprising considering they were practically emanating negative feelings.

“Zadkiel is missing.” Francis stated, rather than asked. Feliciano’s nod confirmed it, and he glanced downward solemnly at their shadows crossing the clouds. “Camael will not reveal where he is, and Arthur is furious with us.”

“Yes.” Feli said in a slightly choked voice.

Looking pained, Francis sucked in a deep breath. “I am not sure there is much we can do yet. There is no way we can message Arthur with the truth about what is happening, and now I do not think he can trust us, even if we could. It is too much for him to comprehend at once, whatever it is he has figured out. We have to pray that he knows what to do.” he said quietly. “We cannot trust Camael. Ever since the attack, he has been cruel and manipulative, like you told me. Whatever we do, we do in secret. Arthur has to be the one that stops this, because he is the only one that can stand up for himself. We are already in danger, and we might be the next to go missing. But no matter what, we protect Arthur. Arthur is all that matters…”

They came to a halt, and perched on top of a giant statue of Mary. “Arthur...I think he has Zadkiel’s feather.” Feli murmured.

Francis blinked. “What?”

Swallowing nervously and wringing his hands, Feli nodded. “I did not see the entire thing, because I am only in Camael’s Cathedral for a couple of hours at a time. It was just before the Angelican Army returned to Heaven, because I had stepped inside to check on him. All I saw was Arthur in that Military place I had told you about before, and he was holding a white feather striped with purple. There are not many others with purple magic.”

His eyes widening, Francis began to put it together, and he thought hard. “Zadkiel must have gone to Hell to try and contact Arthur!”

“I do not think it was successful,” Feli said worriedly. “Arthur did not seem to know how he had gotten the feather. What if he never got back from Hell? Or...Wait…” he trailed off.

“What? What is it?” Francis asked urgently, fluttering his wings as he sat down, prompting Feli to do the same.

Looking down at the marble they were perched upon, Feli spoke again. “Camael has spoken of using human technology for the Angelican army. I am beginning to wonder if he meant on the Angelican Army.”

Francis’ face paled with horror. “Technology like…”

“Machinery, implants, medicine, weapons…” Feli listed, and he began to tear up again. “I think Camael figured out that Zadkiel had snuck off to do business against his will. And then he forced that witchcraft onto him and cast him to Earth! Francis, Zadkiel is an angel drone!”

O~o~O

Arthur froze in utter shock.

“You! What are you doing here?!”

Alfred seemed surprised, but not at all frightened like Arthur. They stared with wide eyes at the angel before them, who donned frightening looking armour that certainly was not traditional.

It was a dulled silver, rather than the gold Arthur would have expected. And it was not for battle, in fact, it looked more like it was there permanently. There was a dark eyepiece over one of his eyes that glowed, and the shoulders of his wings had metal sheets extending them too. It was common knowledge not to arm wings at all. Arthur was also certain that there were not supposed to be small blinking lights over his chest piece.

But he recognised the feathers.

His hand absentmindedly reached into his shirt and delicately pulled out the long feather from his inside pocket. Holding it out in front of him, he knew it was unmistakable.

“Zadkiel…?” he whispered.

Alfred glanced over to him. “What?”

His breathing accelerating in panic, Arthur met Alfred’s stare with wide eyes. “Alfred, we have to go.” he said. “We have to go right now, immediately.”

Without thinking twice, he grabbed Alfred’s hand and tore upwards as fast as his wings would take him, replacing the feather in his jacket and passing through the portal.

Chase your dreams away, glass needles in the hay, the sun forgives the clouds, you are my holy shroud...

And I just don't care if it's real, that won't change how it feels, I just don't care if it's real, that won't change how it feels...

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure it's easy to guess where I did some lyrical input *Ahem* I mean the eNTIRE SONG! Whoops, I will probably get in trouble for that. *Nervous laughter* Welp! Okay so, this was called Unnatural Selection, which is a song that I absolutely LOVE! Hence the heavy lyrical use. I mean, there's honestly no better way to convey Arthur's anger within that song. If only he was actually singing XD
> 
> So the song's pretty heavy, Doc. It's kind of resentful to whoever the target is, and I forgot who the actual target is even though I researched it, but to Arthur, it's Heaven. Right now, he's angry with all of Heaven, not just the Angelicans. 
> 
> But anyway, the concept is, instead of Natural Selection, what happens to those who were not fit enough for their environment? It's from the point of view of the not so lucky ones, who were left to perish. In this case, Arthur believes the demons were unlucky. From this way of thinking, the anger is understandable, because if you were left to die, of course you wouldn't think it's fair. It's part of human nature. But now it's angel nature. But demon nature. Okay now I'm just confusing myself XD
> 
> Um, so just warning you, today is my last day of freedom. Tomorrow, I go back to School (*Cough* HELL) and I'm honestly not sure when the next update will be. :( If I were going to my old school, I could at least be constant. But I'm a little upset because I'm forced to go to a different school that I don't want to go to, so I have exactly zero ideas of what will happen. I'm sorry for complaining, I just think you guys should at least know the reason why :P
> 
> **Disclaimer: I do not own Muse, Linkin Park, Religious/Biblical figures, or Hetalia. Also, that little lyrical thing at the end? That was from Eternally Missed, which was, guess what? By Muse XD
> 
> Go give Muse and Linkin Park hugs!!
> 
> And I guess that's it, for now. Any questions about the song? I'll gladly answer them!! Thanks for sticking around till this chapter so far! And for those who really want that Usuk fluff, that will happen some of next chapter, and then two chapters after that ;)
> 
> Thanks again, and hopefully you'll see me again soon!
> 
> ~Madz


	15. Sing for Absolution

O~o~O

It was cold enough that Arthur’s lips were beginning to turn blue.

He shivered violently and rubbed his arms, sitting in the corner of his alley. It had long gone dark in Hell, because the sky was flooded with clouds. The wind never would relent either, no matter where Arthur sought out shelter, and the rain was not of any help. His uniform was plastered to his skin, and he felt like he was sitting clothless in the freezing night. 

His stomach growled, his skin crawled, his mind churned, and he was heavy with grief. Nothing could go his way anymore. Every time something began to look up, something else would go horribly wrong. It seemed to be a recurring pattern in his life, only fluctuating in the urgence of the situation. It could never settle, he could never be happy, not for a moment. God, it hurt worse and worse every time.

Alfred had left soon after Arthur brought them back through the portal. He had wanted an explanation, seeming worried, but Arthur had insisted he return to the demons waiting without him. Thinking that Arthur simply needed to figure things out on his own, Alfred had heeded his word and left him alone. It was for the best as well, since now Arthur could not stop the tears while he pathetically wallowed in his misery.

His hands shook as he reached into his wet jacket and pulled out the lavender-tipped feather. “Why did this happen to you…?” he asked the quill as if it could answer him. “What is going on…?”

Too many unanswered questions rang around inside his head, and he wanted to scream. But, in a brief moment of logical calmness, such as the eye of the storm, he made every attempt to silence his cries and whimpers. His throat ached from all the wretched wails he held back. He curled up tighter, resting his forehead on his knees, and tugged on his wet red hair without letting go of the feather. Everything hurt. His mind, his heart, and his body. His soul was slowly dying, as was his faith. No one could help him. Not now, not ever.

“I should just give up,” he whispered hoarsely. “I could let all Hell break loose without doing a single thing, and no one would blame me. No one would remember me.”

Trying to come to terms with that, he leaned back to reach into his jacket again, aiming to put the feather back, when his fingers brushed across something hard. Pulling out the journal that he had nearly forgotten about, he blinked with watery eyes at the book and flipped it open. He pointedly ignored how the light rain prodded the damp pages, and carefully turned each and every page. 

All the drawings, all the words scrawled in, all the blood that made up his first experiences in Hell. It seemed like much more pleasant times back then, when his only worry was getting enough sleep and eating sustainably. Nothing compared to the present, when now he had to worry about Heaven and Hell reversing roles. The last time he had written, he had still believed he was a Hero, a warrior for peace. Now he knew he was nothing more than a speck of dust, a simple smudge in the midst of an ever-changing universe. He was so, so small.

He turned the last page that he had written in with a slightly disgusted scowl at his former self, but his tired eyes narrowed when he realised there was more to the journal. Trying to read it through his blurry vision, he used the palm of his gloved hand to move away some of the rain. It was a message, he realised. A message in a language more common in Heaven.

‘My dearest Arthur,

By the time you read this, I will have been long gone. There has been an attack on a region of Hell near you, and you have no idea how relieved I am at finding you safe. If only you were not asleep, but I will not disturb your rest. You are a tired angel, I can see it in your face, in the dark circles under your eyes. However, this is terribly urgent! I must tell you that you cannot trust anyone! You have been lied to about nearly everything. I write with truth, but you may not even be able to trust me in the near future. I know not of what Camael has in mind for my punishment, but it will be of a Hellish sort. He has a twisted mind, my child. Without a doubt, he knows that I have broken away from the Angelican army to find you. Worry not, Arthur, I have already accepted what is to come for me. I will gladly die for you. My fear is that I will be punished with something worse than death.

It is all up to you, my sweet angel. You were given a mission to save all of the angels and the humans, even if it meant destroying Demonocracy. But it was under the assumption that you would not succeed. Camael expected you to die. However, I still believe in you, and so do several more of us in Heaven. Think not of it as a mission failed, but rather a new beginning! You must be the saviour of all kinds now! Not just angels or humans. You must be the vessel that saves us all. 

I cannot help you anymore beyond this point. You must be the one to figure out how to do it! I know you can, you are clever and cunning, intelligent beyond most beings. If I am right, Camael would not be merciful and simply grant me death. He would do something worse, beyond your or my imagination. Should we meet again, gentle Arthur, do not pursue me. I would be dangerous and cruel, and willing to kill any demons on sight. It is my worst nightmare, even beyond falling, to be the hand that brings death. Please, I implore you to be careful. Laying all of your faith in someone could be what ends up killing you, just as it has me.

It is too late to save me, and I tell you this because I know you. I know you remember me from the day you fell, and you will wish to help. Do not try, please. Camael is going to try to bring death to all who are not angels, and he might try to kill you as well. He and his Angelican followers are the enemy, not just the angels. There are a few others who are relying on you to break his spell and end his reign. He is not who you think he is! I am almost certain Camael is not an angel himself. 

This is all I can do for you, and I weep because I wish very strongly that I could do more. But I cannot; for your safety and protection, I must leave you in Hell to your own devices once more. You must be the Messenger! May your prayers be answered and may God grant us forgiveness.

~Zadkiel, the Angel of Mercy~’

After reading it over several times, Arthur felt himself go numb with shock. How could he have missed this? It had all been right with him the entire time! Before he could get hysterical, Arthur tried to assuage himself by assuring his conscious that despite having some clue, the message did not hold all of the answers. He was still confused, still lost, and still without help. All it did was confirm his suspicions.

“Zadkiel…” he whimpered quietly, carefully shutting the soaking journal and sliding it back inside his jacket with quivering hands. He cringed when his last view of the formerly beautiful archangel flashed in his mind’s eye, and he buried his face in his arms once more. “You knew something worse was coming...But you never knew it would turn you against me…” The mere thought of what horrible things had been done to the archangel’s body and mind left him gasping for breath out of fear. “Camael did this to you…”

Wishing for some form of comfort, Arthur looked up at the sky and performed the switching spell, discovering Zadkiel’s warm and mostly dry tunic top around his shoulders. Pulling it off in an upset rush and switching back to his demon appearance, Arthur wrapped himself with the old Angelican uniform and carefully clutched the feather in his trembling hands. 

Whispering Zadkiel’s name in sorrow and blinking both rain and tears out of his eyes, Arthur hummed old angel hymns and cried to himself. God, the tears felt so familiar on his cheeks along with the searing rain, and the pain was known too well. He was going to get found out eventually, just because crying was the only way he could deal with this pressure.

He cursed angels for being such emotional beings, and lamented his miserable existence like never before until he fell unawares, practically fainting into an exhausted slumber.

O~o~O

He woke up alone.

Grateful for that, Arthur let out a shaky breath and sat up as much as he could. He winced and shifted his arm to pull on his knee to sit up when a sharp soreness made itself known across his whole body, especially in his neck. He’d fallen asleep in an odd position, curled up sitting against the wall with his head cocked to the side. Not very comfortable, to say the least. 

His eyes slowly adjusted to the slightly brighter scene, no longer blinking away rain, and he felt strangely calm like a whole unknown weight within him had been dissipated like dust. It felt somewhat empty now.

Unlike the last time he had been awoken, he was gradually able to adjust to awareness, rather than panicking. That was a relief. Opening his mouth wide to yawn and slowly moving his muscles, Arthur brought himself to his feet and sleepily stumbled until he could find his balance. Rubbing his tired eyes, Arthur stretched carefully, his face wrinkling in groggy discomfort at the movement. He waited until he was fully woken up to focus on more important things.

He absentmindedly fingered the soft tunic top around his shoulders. His clothes were still slightly damp, but it wasn’t raining anymore, so he figured he could dry off quickly enough. Spreading his wings to stretch them as well, he got startled when he felt a couple of droplets hit the back of his neck that must have been suspended on the sharp points of the bat-like limbs. Even now, he still had yet to get used to demon anatomy. 

Curiously, he reached to the top of his head, combing his fingers through his red hair until they found his left horn. He did not understand why demons had horns at all; was it an evolutionary tactic to make themselves more frightening? Or was it something more biblical, like they were designed that way? Feeling over the small ridges in the protrusion from his head, he sighed deeply and decided to let it be. He might never know.

Making sure his journal and Zadkiel’s feather were safely put inside his jacket, he performed a surprisingly smooth and swift transformation to replace the Angelican uniform with his natural appearance, before returning to his demon self. Looking around, as if making sure he hadn’t left anything, he made sure his small area was spotless before taking flight.

Initially, going to the base like usual seemed like a great idea, in the hope that the demons he failed to get back to yesterday would be there. But, in the middle of trying to ascend while rounding the familiar route, his stomach growled loudly, and he realised just how fuzzy his mind was when he nearly clipped a hard corner with his shoulder. 

“Alright, alright,” he said to himself. “Food is first priority. Then, maybe water. Actually, a bath sounds nice.”

Promising himself some form of nourishment, he changed directions and clumsily flew in the direction of the baths he liked. The air chilling him, he shivered and hugged his arms. It smelled different in Hell for some reason, like the cold city was slowing down for a more frigid season. It clouded his senses, making it almost difficult to breathe the heavy air. It burned down his throat.

After just managing to make it through the alley walls and various large objects he had to weave around, Arthur caught sight of the building he was headed for, and wheezed quietly. His whole body felt about ready to give up on him. He felt tired and anxious, and he hadn’t even been awake that long.

Glancing upward at the dark sky and breathing hard, he gazed hopelessly across the hazy horizon of hell.

When he finally stumbled into the grey building, panting heavily, he very nearly collapsed to his knees out of exhaustion. He had half a mind to be bitter about his ignorance of his own health, but he was more focused on trying to be able to stand straight. He felt bleary, and let out weak noises along with his breathing unintentionally. His chest hurt, his throat was sore, and the muscles in his wings and back ached like he’d flown for several miles.

He didn’t even hear anyone approach him, but a short, purposeful cough startled him into looking up from the stone floor. Letting out a quiet “Huh?” in confusion, he was faced with a large piece of warm bread shoved right in front of him, to the point where he could smell it more than he could see it.

“Eat it.” commanded a sharp voice. Arthur dragged his distracted gaze up to see the demon who seemed to own the bath house, the older woman with that natural snarl.

“I- buh- ah- you-...” he stuttered weakly, nearly tipping over and falling as he tried to explain himself to the elder demon.

She had none of it. “Eat it,” she told him again, and stuffed it in his mouth without warning. “You fool, you’re going to end up dying of starvation. You think the Demonocracy would appreciate that? They’d be sure to cremate you if you just died on them. Then you’d really be in for it; being cremated is almost worse than being in the innermost circle of Hell, from what I’ve heard. You have to keep yourself healthy.”

Arthur only barely understood what she said, having nearly choked on the big slice of bread that occupied his mouth. Making an odd noise that resembled a startled but muffled cry, he came very close to falling on the floor while flailing his hands uselessly.

His weak knees weren’t helping. The only thing that kept him standing was the demon’s sudden firm grasp on his shoulders, at least until he composed himself at her firm glare. 

She let go of Arthur, but pointedly waited to watch him eat. She stood sternly with her arms crossed, waiting for him to start chewing. Even though he was taller than she was, he somehow felt infinitely smaller like a child. Then again, he was hunched over weakly and clinging to the wall. After realising that she wasn’t going away, Arthur finally began eating, and she waited until he had finished every bite. By the time he was done, he hadn’t even noticed that he’d slid to the floor on his knees, savouring every bite like it was the most seasoned and rich bread in all existence. 

The demon let out a satisfied huff and turned to walk back to her usual place, finally letting Arthur be. He let out a small sigh of relief, and also found himself at least able to think straight. Shifting up so he was kneeling, he leaned forwards and brought himself back to a stand.

Seeing that the nameless demon was occupied with sorting out something near the front of the room, Arthur turned and walked over to the washrooms to get cleaned up before anything else happened. “What did she mean by being cremated?” he mumbled to himself as he rounded the corner, by himself again and able to switch to his angel self. Hopefully out of earshot. “Is that not something the humans do to celebrate their dead?”

He thought about it very deeply as he washed, scrubbing all over his body, in between his feathers, his fingernails, his face, everywhere. He shivered violently, but he felt too numb and tired to react properly. He knew humans were full of many different cultures that he could not name, and so there were several ceremonies for disposing of the deceased. What purpose did cremating serve?

Arthur had wondered why his skin was beginning to look so dark. He made sure to wash all of the dirt off as thoroughly as he could with shaky hands. “G-God.” he muttered, after he had leaned forward to submerge his head and wet his hair.

Trembling very noticeably when he finally got out, Arthur sighed deeply and preened his wet, trembling feathers until he had gotten his plumage sorted out for the most part. The quills were flushed, trying to warm up again, so the inside of his wings had a slightly pink appearance as if they were blushing. 

As he carefully dried his blonde hair out, he made sure the rest of his body was dry as well before putting his tunic back on and arranging Zadkiel’s uniform around his shoulders. Still not hearing anyone around, Arthur remained as he was for a moment, staring at himself in the mirror.

He stood alongside two statues also staring at the mirror in the room who were supposed to represent the ‘demons of vanity,’ or something like that. He did not know why else the room came off as so frightening, other than himself. Finding himself very nearly horrified at his own appearance, he couldn’t help but stare.

The tunic fitted more loosely than it did before. He was almost certain that he had not been this slender when he last saw himself, and while he still held a somewhat muscular figure, he was still obviously not in top health. His hair hung in damp strands around his face, not quite long enough to cover his dead green eyes that were shadowed underneath with very dark circles. He dragged his gaze along down his jawline, that contoured a little more sharply than he remembered, down his arms and the shoulders of his wings. Turning slightly, he realised his back was bruised, but not for a reason he could pin.

Before he had to look at his malnourished form any longer, he tore his eyes away and began the switching spell. Why was it that his demon self looked more alive than the angel appearance?

Not wanting to question it, he walked a little too quickly out of the washroom.

Fixing his black tie, he nervously pretended to be busy as to not catch the gaze of the stern demon who still stood around the same area she was before. She, however, had a different idea.

“Paranomia!” she snapped without turning around.

Arthur froze. “Y-yes?”

Flicking her spiny and weathered tail, she turned to him, holding something that Arthur didn’t know the name of from first glance. “I don’t expect you to tell me why you’re being so stupid and not feeding yourself, but if you don’t want to die, you better take this.” she handed it to him, and it took everything Arthur had to not jump back in disgust.

It was a carcass of some kind. A dead animal. 

“Jesus.” he muttered under his breath, and then panicked, thinking the demon heard him. But she didn’t, she simply held out the disgusting body in front of herself expectantly, waiting for him to take it.

“Well?” she asked at his hesitation, watching his hand twitch towards the dead thing, wrinkling his nose. “Take the damn fish, Paranomia.” she shoved it towards him.

Unable to help his revolted expression, he almost dropped it by simply pinching the tail between his finger and thumb, and then kept an awkward grip on it. “I-I do not have the money, I cannot take this,” he tried to insist, but was shut up by the demon waving it off.

“Just eat it,” she snarled. “but don’t expect this kindness again. You better figure out a way to feed yourself, because you can’t afford to be a useless child at a time like this.”

“Y-yes, ma’am.” he straightened immediately, still holding the dead fish a considerable distance from himself.

The demon narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t you form that stupid habit of formalities,” she hissed. “Just go, eat that, and if you die, I’ll kill you.” she waved him off and turned around to get back to what she was doing.

Standing there for a moment, Arthur stared after her before reluctantly looking at the fish. He had to figure out how to eat it, since he felt he didn’t have a choice. So, with a heavy breath and a slightly disturbed expression, he spread his wings and glided outside in search of a more private place to eat his...fish.

Despite how sick it made him feel just thinking about putting that thing in his mouth, he forced down the bile in his throat and pulled himself together. “It’s alright, you’ve seen the humans eat fish before. Jesus even ate fish!” he assured himself, landing around behind another tall building. “Surely I can as well...At least just eat out the middle.”

With the most nauseated and repulsed feeling, he held the raw fish on its side in his hands, and slowly brought it closer to his face, sinking his teeth into the centre.

O~o~O

“God, I’m never doing that again,” Arthur moaned to himself, flapping his wings carefully as he entered the base.

He had managed a few bites of it, at least. But the moment he felt like he was going to vomit, he dropped the fish without thinking and abruptly flew off to find water, and sat for a long while by a heavily flowing faucet just to wash out the revolting taste of raw fish from his mouth, and in the hopes of calming his stomach so he didn’t lose all that he had just eaten.

It worked, eventually. He didn’t throw up at least, and that was a good thing. In fact, he didn’t even feel that hungry anymore. Feeling only forced content, he removed his hand from his now only slightly upset stomach as he entered the cylindrical room.

It was empty, he gathered, from looking around the deserted area.

“Huh.” he said aloud, looking around, only just then noting that he had not heard a single noise from anywhere else in the Base. There was usually something going on, right? He couldn’t have missed anything.

He turned around, about to leave and figure out where he could go from there, when he saw a figure standing aways from him, in the middle of the silver arch. Startled, he pulled in a sharp breath and instinctively got into a defensive position. That was, until he recognised the demon.

“Ivan,” Arthur sighed in relief, and relaxed at the sight of his friend. “I was beginning to think something happened, what-?”

“You’re in trouble Paranomia.” Ivan stated simply, interrupting him. It only took a few steps towards the Russian-accented demon for Arthur to realise that he did not exactly look like he was up for pleasant chatter. He stood with his arms crossed and his head lowered in a dark look, and Arthur stopped.

He blinked. “Er...Come again?” he asked, confused.

Ivan stared at him with an unnerving and frightening look. “Phobos and Deimos are looking for you. I suggest you run before they find you, because they have gruesome plans for your fate.” he hissed in a low voice.

“E-excuse me?” Arthur didn’t understand and backed up a step.

Wrinkling his nose into a slight snarl, Ivan spat. “Are you stupid or something, Paranomia? You think they haven’t noticed how strange you are compared to us? You think I haven’t noticed? We’re not fools. We know something is off about you, otherwise you would not know so much of the Angelicans. You are lucky I found you first, and lucky that I am still somehow loyal to you. I am not kidding when I tell you to run.”

Panic slowly rising, Arthur went on edge. “I-I, uh, I-Ivan-”

“Save it, Paranomia! If you live, I expect a full explanation. Phobos and Deimos and the rest of the demons who follow them are searching in bloodlust for your head! Get out of here!”

As Arthur flew towards him, Ivan ushered him out, still looking very dark. “They’ll kill you if you let them. Run fast and far, and we’ll find you. We’ll try to defend you.”

That was the last he caught from Ivan before he was too far away to hear, and he flew fast back the way he came, clueless as to where he should go. He was also still confused for infinite reasons. He didn’t know what was happening or what was going on, but he understood it was not anything good. For him, anyway. 

Flapping his wings harder to ascend, he finally exited the base and took a route that closely followed the edges of Hell’s broken city. Ivan had made him paranoid, and he felt like he was being pursued.

Slowly becoming breathless with his speed in panicked flight, he dove closer to the ground and did his best to twirl and weave around the desolate streets, remaining in the shadows. The air smelt wet, and he was certain it was going to begin raining again, and the rain would be freezing.

The thing that frightened him most was the fact that he had no idea what he was doing or where he was going. Did Ivan just want him to run far away for no reason? Or was he really in danger? Trying to even his velocity with his breathing, he desperately flew onward.

It wasn’t until a horrific screech sounded behind him that he realised he was being chased. 

“There he is!” roared a demon, and Arthur could hear the shouts of several others as well. Dread filled him like the heavy clouds in the sky, and he felt sick to his stomach again.

With only a half glance back, he could see the swirling mass of them, all the demons he’d ever wronged or hurt, and his eyes widened in horror. Phobos and Deimos were somewhere in that storm of demons, and, breaking out in a cold sweat, Arthur could just feel from the very depths of his being that they had every intention of seeing him dead.

His movements became stiff and overwhelmed, and it took everything he had to keep flying. He became a little unsteady, and faltered several times trying to turn and not hit anything, but the nauseous feeling made that unbearably difficult. Arthur could practically hear the demons breathing as they gave chase to the angel.

A screeching crowd of cheetahs on the hunt for one gazelle. A gazelle that was about ready to fall at any given moment, really. Unnatural Selection had caught up to him again, and he was only fueled by adrenaline that coursed through his body like the blood roaring in his ears. Heart beating painfully and evidently, he gasped and moaned for breath, his body trying too hard to compensate for his speed.

Hell became a blur. He could hardly see what he was flying over, and his avoiding hitting the run down buildings became pure luck. Numb with the cold, he lost just about all coherent thought.

Left. No, right. Ascend. Spin this way. His mind was light and spacey. His body felt faint. The back of his neck was chilled from the sweat that dripped from his hair. He couldn’t feel his fingers. 

Almost running into a wall, he risked a glance back. He was still ahead, but not by far. ‘Mercy, mercy, please show me mercy!’ his mind begged, and his body wearily tore through the air with shaky muscles. He had no idea how long he could run for.

This felt familiar. Why did this resemble the time he was being pursued by Alfred’s Rage? 

A dead feeling manifested in him. He had no idea where he was, what he could do, what was happening. His final attempt to surge forward and faster in flight brought him to a place he was certain he’d been before.

The portal. 

Only just spotting it with his glazed over eyes, he rose to meet it without thinking.

Earth was his last hope.

The air was no longer warm and pleasant. The dive was not exhilarating like the last time. His wings trembled in the wind and he kept almost spinning out of control. He could barely process that he was headed straight for a complicated network of silver roads lit up by moving vehicles and shiny with the light rain.

He was caught before he could make it.

Something latched onto the edge of his wing, almost ripping it right off his back when he was yanked backwards, back towards his chasers. He howled in pain, and the rush of cold made him figure the fragile skin had been torn and he was bleeding. Going limp for a brief moment, he was helplessly pulled towards the demon.

“Paranomia,” Deimos spat, holding Arthur face-to-face with him and forcing the angel to meet his wild eyes, alight with a raging fire. “You’ve left us with no choice but to kill you. We will bathe in your blood tonight in celebration, and the Demonocracy will rise on without the likes of you.” he smirked and brought the hand that had grabbed Arthur to his mouth, licking off some of the red from his bare fingers.

Arthur gagged and weakly tried to squirm away, pushing at Deimos’s grip on him. The rain was blurring his vision a little, but he could see that the rest of the demons were approaching as well. Phobos wasn’t long after Deimos, and he also gripped Arthur tightly, using the claws on his wings to dig into Arthur’s arm.

Feeling himself crippling, Arthur tried everything he could to get away, letting out sharp cries as the pain got excruciatingly worse. Eventually he let himself drop like a dead weight, and somehow that managed to make Phobos and Deimos lose their grip on him, his wet body slipped through their claws.

It wasn’t without leaving several gashes as he slipped from their painful grasp. Tears welling up in his eyes, he let out faint whimpers as he fell down towards Earth again, trying to adjust his position so he could fall back like in a dive.

However, with his wing wounded, it only made him begin spinning uncontrollably. Letting out a hysterical wail, not just out of pain from all the stinging wounds that were made worse by the rushing wind, he did everything he could to slow back down.

With no idea how he managed it, he somehow spread his wings and glided in a more horizontal angle, still spinning. Phobos and Deimos were still on his heels, and he couldn’t even tell where anyone else was. 

The two Demonocratic commanders evened with him and tried to tackle him out of the sky, and the only thing that kept them from doing just that was Arthur’s sheer desperation and last-resort survival reactions. They bit into him, clawed at every possible angle, and earned screams of unbearable agony. Still, he wrestled with them despairingly, flapping his near-useless wings, until they got close to impacting the ground, and they were in the dead centre of the complex of silvery paths that shiny rolling machines sped past on.

He succeeded in using their own momentum to hurl them off of him. Still way better off than he was, they quickly met with him again and continued attacking his defenseless form in the air. He was beginning to see red, and spots danced around his hazy vision. Overwhelmed, he could feel his body shutting down.

Something loud blared in their ears. All three of them turned, only to be blinded. In an instant, Phobos and Deimos had abandoned Arthur. Something huge slammed into him.

The impact sent him off the side, head first. He felt like he was flying upside down, the only thing he could hear was screeching and breaking and fast roaring that quickly disappeared and was replaced, over and over again. Before he could process any more, he hit something else, but the sheer force that shattered glass and metal alike beneath him kept him from landing, and the surface disappeared beneath him. He landed hard on the pavement.

The world spun like never before, and through the gloom he could see the sky. The rain stung his eyes, and he wasn’t sure if he was lying still. Various dark shaped tore after each other, and everything shimmered like the starlight in the gloom. 

Lights danced across the short walls. Metallic contraptions rolled past faster than Arthur could think. Something smelt like it had died, something artificial. He could gradually feel the world slip from him. His body screamed silently.

Slowly, he could feel his eyes begin to close, the world getting darker and darker…

He did not know what was happening. Many more of those black figures tore through the sky, and a scraping sound close to him startled his slow mind enough to keep him awake.

His fingers twitched. Something appeared overhead, a much closer black figure. He was too tired to be afraid.

For a moment, all he could hear was the rain and the human traffic. But then, it spoke. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, little buddy…” murmured a quiet voice.

Arthur’s gaze flitted around, trying to identify the form above him. Alas, he could not see, and instead let out was he thought was a choked cough.

He felt so tired. But he could not bring himself to close his sore eyes, and felt something warm press into all the hurting, soaking areas. He could not move, and could barely breathe. Nothing was working. His chapped lips couldn’t even open to form words. But he must have made some sort of noise, because the figure appeared close to him again. 

“Shh, shh,” it told him, and something brushed his wet hair from his face. “It hurts, I know, buddy. I know. Stay with me, okay? Stay awake.”

Unable to do much else, Arthur abided as much as he could.

It did hurt. But the warm feeling returned, soothing various parts of his body as it went. His eyelids trembled, alternating between wanting to close and open. He fought for consciousness, even if it was only half awareness. 

Eventually, only a fraction of the pain remained, but he was colder than any time he had ever been before. His breath came out as less ragged gasps, now just short and fast. He was alive. He could figure out that much.

A slight pressure underneath his knees and upper back alerted him that he was moving, and he dizzily tried to resist. “Arthur, Artie, it’s okay, it’s just me.” reassured the voice again, and he felt something chilly press on his cheek. “It’s just me, buddy. We’re going home.”

The ground disappeared from below, and Arthur let out a small gasp, the air burning his throat. He was limp, held in the arms of mercy, and he could not think past that. Had an angel come to take him back to Heaven? Was that what the voice had meant? In this state, he could not come up with a better place to be, and relaxed instantly.

“I’m falling from your grace…” the voice said quietly, and Arthur felt warmth press up against him. 

They took to the sky, Arthur blind to everything else around him. Only relying on feeling, he tried to get as much of the warmth as he could. He opened his eyes after a little while of bobbing through the fast air, and found himself gazing at the glowing city below.

That was the last thing he saw before everything went black.

O~o~O

When he eventually awoke again, it was on something soft and still. 

His bleary eyes found a ceiling instead of the sky. Too tired to wonder why, his muscles began stretching on their own, and he clutched a comforting swath of blankets in trying to wake up fully.

It was only when he attempted to bring his knee upward that he realised something heavy was on top of him.

He was too groggy to question it. Looking downward, he discovered a mess of black hair on top of his chest, and an arm strewn near one of his own. When he accidentally brought his knee up a little fast, the body on him moved as well.

“Oh...Sorry.” Arthur mumbled, apologising absentmindedly when Alfred lifted his head wearily, seemingly slightly pained since Arthur had basically kneed him in the gut. Not hard enough to hurt, but any sort of movement was enough to wake a demon.

Alfred’s tired blue eyes met with Arthur’s, and for a reason Arthur wasn’t awake enough to inquire about, he lifted himself just slightly, letting Arthur sit up a little, and then leaned forward.

Fatigued beyond reason, Arthur didn’t move back. Instead, he merely blinked as Alfred leaned closer, their faces almost uncomfortably near. Then, without any sort of explanation, the demon pressed his lips upon Arthur’s.

It felt rather nice, he supposed. His eyes closed, and he felt the warmth from Alfred’s face. Alfred was only very gently leaning into him, and Arthur guessed they were both too tired to question anything, really. He felt his fingers curl even more into the blankets when Alfred tilted his head.

He had never been this close to Alfred before, and he picked up on all kinds of details. The scent of the demon, which had become somewhat familiar to him, washed over his senses. All he could hear was the soft shifting of fabric and silence between them. Alfred pressed slightly closer then, and they remained that way for what felt like a while.

Soon, Alfred leaned back, and promptly lowered himself back down on top of Arthur. He sleepily adjusted until he was comfortable again, and shut his eyes.

Confused, Arthur slowly laid back down as well, absentmindedly moving a hand towards the demon who rested upon him. “...What was that?” he whispered, not understanding what had just happened.

Alfred shifted, and moved his own hand towards where Arthur’s was before, and laced their fingers. “I think the humans call it a kiss,” he mumbled tiredly, and then relaxed and settled back into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoah. Nice long chapter to make up for my absence, I guess XD Pretty close to 6,500 words! 
> 
> I will have you all know why this chapter exists in the first place. So, one time, I was driving to school, down a highway since my old school was that far away. I have a playlist for Messenger, that I play for keeping myself inspired XD I was listening to it, and passing under another road above me. As this song was playing, a truck drove overhead, and hit this random black bag flying around, and it flew down and hit the car I was riding in. For some reason, my mind was like "Dude what if that was Arthur :D" and so yea that's why the demons on a highway scene happened. More like the Highway to Hell, am I right? XDD
> 
> So yea. I feel like this chapter wasn't very good...I'm not good at writing suspenseful stuff :P But it's been twenty days, I figured I have to do something XD
> 
> If you're confused about what happened, it's likely going to be better explained next chapter...Whenever I get around to that. Yea so Alfred'll tell Artie what exactly went down at the highway. 
> 
> Not that you care or whatever, but this new school is alright, I guess. It keeps me busy, which is why I still don't know how consistently I will update. It might end up being every three weeks...Which is almost unbearable to think about :( Weekends aren't really an option *Says as I spend my Saturday on Messenger* because my AP US History class requires lots and lots of notes :P So yea. I hope this doesn't make me lose your interest or something ^^' I'm not stopping Messenger, not ever, it just might take a while for me to keep it going.
> 
> So! Beyond that, here's the analysis! Sing for Absolution is kind of named after it's purpose; the band members all say the song is about seeking absolution through music, absolution being a term for redemption. It's an absolutely glorious song, and it works so well for Messenger. If it was sung, it would be sung by both Alfred and Arthur.
> 
> "Lips are turning blue
> 
> A kiss that can't renew
> 
> I only dream of you,
> 
> My beautiful...
> 
> Tiptoe to your room
> 
> A starlight in the gloom
> 
> I only dream of you,
> 
> And you never knew..."
> 
> That verse kinda belongs to Alfred, but it's not really romantic, if that makes sense? This whole lullaby-sounding song is about finding forgiveness, so it's more in that sense than in a truly romantic feeling.
> 
> "There's nowhere left to hide
> 
> And no one to confide
> 
> The truth burns deep inside,
> 
> And will never die..."
> 
> That one is Arthur's! Truth being the fact that he's an angel, he can't tell anyone and he can't hide anywhere. He's being stripped slowly to the bone in this chapter!
> 
> **Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, Linkin Park, Hetalia, the Bible, or the soon-to-be-changed cover image.
> 
> Yo, I got a shoutout for two very special people :D One of them is CharlesSalazar, Charizard, whatever you wanna call him! His birthday was on the second of this month, and he is one of my dearest friends. Love him a lot :D The other is for a very new, very cool friend of mine who I met on Tumblr! jochloe112, my own little Messenger XD Her birthday was the third of this month! These two are amazing people, and they are both absolutely adorable and sweet angels in my life :)
> 
> So why don't we all Sing for Absolution? For whatever troubles or problems we face, for whatever redemption we seek, I will sing with you. 
> 
> Until next time...
> 
> ~Madz


	16. The Little Things Give You Away

O~o~O

Our wrongs remain unrectified, and our souls won’t be exhumed...

Arthur let out a small, content moan, arching his back and pulling his arms above his head to stretch. It felt so nice to feel muscles moving, muscles that had been still for so long. He turned his head with a slight smile after letting his arms rest, not quite opening his eyes yet, and felt sleep pulling him back along with the soft blankets.

Was he dreaming? He didn’t want it to end. The scent of the air was so comforting, and he felt like he was laying on a cloud, not heated by the sun but pleasantly cool instead. His fingers tiredly clutched at the sheets, and he felt his body curling up like it usually did when he was going to sleep, adjusting himself even more comfortably than before.

The sensation was slowly lulling him back to sleep, and he sighed deeply before relaxing once more.

“...Hey, Artie?” a quiet voice roused his sleeping mind again, and he stirred. “Are you awake?”

Something dipped behind him, almost making Arthur fall on his back. He curled up tighter in response. “Um…” the voice was more delicate, more considerate this time. “Arthur...Are you alright?”

“Nnnh…” Arthur let out a small, tired noise, and shifted to stretch again. He pulled on his achy muscles and shifted around a little, his tail following his back movements. “Hmmn, wh...what…?” his eyes fluttered open, and he turned to see a demon leaning over him.

Alfred smiled tentatively. “Heh...Took you long enough. You were asleep for a while, but I didn’t wanna wake you because you were beaten in kinda badly. I figured you needed to rest.” he said in a quiet voice while he leaned back a little from Arthur.

Rolling onto his back, Arthur blinked slowly at Alfred. “I...I’m…” he started to say, but cut himself off by yawning and turned away.

Alfred laughed softly. “And a good morning to you too, sleepyhead.” he watched for a moment with a peculiar fascination at Arthur’s slow, stretching movements, before gently reaching behind his back and helping him sit up. “You alright? I mean, not like you’re not always tired, but you slept for, like, ever.”

Closing his eyes and slowly adjusting to being awake, Arthur nodded sleepily. “I am fine,” he sighed eventually, pulling his shoulders back and stretching his wings. “What...What happened? It is escaping me…” he trailed off, accidentally reverting back to angel speech.

He’d opened his eyes and looked down his front. “I…” he couldn’t find words, and could only blink at his own uniform, which had been stained with blood, heavy enough for concern. 

“Yea, about that…” Alfred winced and scratched the back of his head. His awkward demeanour made Arthur feel like he should be concerned. “I think you remember those Phobos and Deimos dudes chasing you to Earth. Basically, they were tearing you to shreds, but then you got hit by this giant machine that a human was driving! Like, really hard! A truck of some kind, I guess. Anyway, so you fell over the side, and landed on top of another one of their machines, totally shattering it! The machine thing kept driving though, so you rebounded off of it and landed right on the giant path they drive one. Scared the Hell out of everyone around when that metal thing broke…” Alfred snickered, seeming to remember the scene clearly.

Arthur tilted his head. “So...I was hit by a truck and landed on top of a car? And then on the road?” he asked in a slow, still evidently tired voice. His stare remained on his bloodied uniform, and he wondered how injured he had managed to get. However, he noticed he was no longer actually wounded. Had Alfred healed him again?

Alfred nodded. “After being thoroughly being ripped at by the demon commanders! I’m amazed you’re still alive, to be honest…” his smile fell, and he shook his head in a slightly concerned and worried manner. “You had gashes, bruises all over your body. Your right wing was practically torn off. I still don’t know how you were conscious when I got to you. I mean, I wasn’t even that bad when I found you, but I could barely keep my eyes open! So, I picked you up as carefully as I could and carried you back to Hell, and told Ivan to call everyone else back if he could. I just flew back here, and pretty much as soon as I set you down and finished healing you, I fell asleep too.” he laughed nervously.

“Back...here.” Arthur repeated, looking around the room. “Where is here?”

Eyes widening, Alfred leaned back away from Arthur and looked down at his hands. “This is, uhh…” he hesitated, swallowing thickly. “This is where I live. I dunno what I said last night, but I was really tired, so I might have forgot to mention, that, um, this is my place.”

He gestured around a little awkwardly, and Arthur’s sleepy gaze followed his hand movements. It looked like a rather large human apartment, just, without all of the strange things the humans kept in them. The smooth tile floor was dark, and the walls were only a little lighter. To his right, there was a very large platform of sorts that sat along the corner, turning at a ninety degree angle with the wall. It was black, and looked as if it had the texture of refined skin like leather. Arthur vaguely remembered someone calling the giant object a ‘couch’. There was a long glass table in front of that, and on the other side of the room, there was a door opened just a little. To his left, there was just a wide opening that led outside to a stone balcony, and he could clearly see the grey sky of Hell.

Arthur looked down, and realised he was also sitting on a platform, but it wasn’t a couch. Glancing at the smaller square table beside him, he shifted up to get a better look at what he had slept on. It was strewn with soft grey blankets, still warm with his body heat, and behind him were small, soft rectangles that sat against a elegant black board with the wall. To his weary delight, he discovered that the surface he sat upon was quite springy.

Alfred was still watching him with a somewhat anxious look. “So, uh, you don’t live in a place like this? Why do you sleep in an alleyway?”

“I...Mm…” Arthur yawned again, but on purpose this time. He couldn’t think of a plausible reason for his lack of a living quarters quite like this. “It is what I am used to,” he mumbled after a moment.

The demon sat cross-legged and tilted his head. His half-smile was caught somewhere between slight amusement, embarrassment, and something else Arthur didn’t know the name of. “...You’re funny when you’re tired.” Alfred pointed out eventually, reaching forward to poke Arthur’s face. He laughed when Arthur didn’t quite react in time.

“How is that?” Arthur creased his brows, confused as he turned his head to peer at his demon friend.

Alfred shrugged. “I dunno, dude. You just are. Also, you talk weird, like you alternate between talking normally and in a fancy angel tone.” he giggled when Arthur made a face at him. “Anyway, I hope this isn’t too overwhelming or anything. Like I’m imposing myself on you or something…” he looked away, outside towards the balcony.

“No, no, it is nothing like that. I am actually quite comfortable.” Arthur assured the demon. “Besides, we are friends, are we not?” he smiled tiredly at Alfred and stretched again, trying to relax and show Alfred that he was alright. He remembered that a demon’s sense of privacy probably made any sort of personal event a little unsettling, but perhaps if he loosened up himself, it would make Alfred feel better.

He looked back and smiled shyly at Arthur. “Yea…” he agreed. “You’re right. Besides, I think the Demonocrats would have found your little place down in that alley. It’s safer for you up here. If it’s alright with you, I think you should stay here for the time being. Like, sleep here and stuff.” he grinned somewhat hopefully. He was calmer now, less on edge. Arthur was happy about that, but he was also confused.

“Stay here?” he asked. “You do not need to be worried about my safety, Alfred. I can take care of myself, and I think you know that more than a lot of others. My staying here would put you at risk more than it would protect me.” he pointed out, rubbing the back of his neck.

That struck a slight reaction in Alfred. His eyes flashed with somewhat of a defensive look, but it quickly calmed. “You could have died last night.” he reminded Arthur quietly. “And this isn’t any small matter. Something’s wrong, and the worlds are changing, like you said. The Angelicans and the Demonocrats...They’re fighting with each other but now they’re also after us.”

“Me.” Arthur corrected, but Alfred went on.

“There’s something going on, something dark with both of them and something that I don’t wanna be around to find out. So the best option, for me at least, is to stick with you. And your best option is to stay hidden, in case the commanders find you again, ‘cause I dunno whatever reason they wanted to kill you. It’s the only way we’ll stay alive, as far as we know for now.” Alfred said, in a dead serious voice.

He had a very valid point. Arthur was unable to think of a way to insist that he did not need the protection, but Alfred seemed dead set on his word. Arthur pretended to rub his eyes to wake up some more to hide the fact that he was thinking of a good reply. Yes, Alfred’s opinion mattered and he made a very good case of it, however, it was still problematic; how would he be able to ensure that he didn’t somehow reveal his actual identity by accident? Perhaps he could attempt to come to a compromise, if only just to ease Alfred’s mind. Arthur still couldn’t accept that the demon was worried about his safety.

“I can stay sometimes.” he said firmly. “I would only be a burden if I stayed here as often as you wanted. We are both supposed to stay alive, not just me. We are friends, and I trust your judgement, Alfred. But this situation is something we need to learn to handle, rather than hiding away, alright? We are not weak, but I can tell you that we are both somewhat scared. And that is okay. We are going to be okay.” he assured the demon.

Alfred shifted uncomfortably, making an obviously disagreeable face at first. Glaring at the grey blankets, he didn’t answer for a moment. He was thinking, and after a while, his blue eyes lost their coldness. “Yea. Alright.” he eventually agreed in a forced voice. “Whatever works.”

‘Did I make him angry?’ Arthur wondered, eyes widening in worry when the demon suddenly opened his wings and turned to fly off the springy surface they sat on. The fast movement startled Arthur enough to make him jump a little, but luckily Alfred was facing the other way and didn’t notice. ‘That could not be enough to induce his Rage...I hope.’

Alfred took a deep breath, landing just outside in the big opening to the balcony. “Whenever you want, you can go wash up. The shower is in that door in the back, but the water can get really warm if you don’t turn the temperature knob thing to the right.” he told Arthur, before walking outside to the edge of his balcony.

Arthur sat up curiously from leaning forward in thought, his interest piqued at the words ‘warm’ and ‘water.’ Blinking after Alfred, he tilted his head before looking to the right, where he saw the door that was open slightly that he’d spotted before. “Warm water?” he asked himself, wondering if he’d heard right.

O~o~O

He most certainly did hear right. 

Arthur stripped himself, prepared for the cold water when he turned on the strange device that Alfred had called a shower. It didn’t take much to figure it out, and he closed the curtains as he stepped inside, the tile feeling very cold to his pale feet. His black wings even quivered, and he swallowed nervously as he neared the mysteriously narrow flow of water. Remembering what Alfred had said about the knob, he made sure it was turned to the a little more to the left than the demon had suggested.

He reached forward slowly, testing the stream with his fingers. At first, it struck as freezing and he pulled back, but after a moment, it almost burned. He held his hand back out palm up, his eyes lighting up when the water warmed his cold hands. 

Once it got warm enough for him to believe it was real, Arthur took a step forward so his head was directly underneath the flow of hot water. Gasping, he broke out in a relieved smile as he twisted his body around to get every possible inch of him wet.

Without thinking, he performed the switching spell, the magic making the water shimmer and glow. It wasn’t long before Arthur had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide blissful moans as the water found it’s way through his feathers. He kept his wings at such an angle that they didn’t reach over the top of the curtains, or peek through the bottom, because he was slightly paranoid of being visible. 

He hadn’t felt anything this good in too long...Feeling his muscles relaxing and stress leaving him, he stretched his sore wings around him to get every single quill wet and warm. Stifling several pleasured gasps, he rolled his shoulders, gracefully turning his body around in the water in every direction he could, and breathed the heavy air in deeply.

“God,” he groaned weakly, almost struggling to stay standing. But he didn’t care, he grinned and let out soft laughter at how good and relieving the water felt upon him. It went that way for awhile, even when he could hear the faint sound of Alfred walking around outside the washroom. The only thing he had trouble with, oddly enough, was not singing. The room was quite small, and so everything echoed more than he expected. It reminded him of what the build of Cathedrals did to a voice in Heaven. 

After soaping up his body and washing his feathers carefully, he knew he had to hurry. The footsteps outside the room were getting a little impatient sounding. So, with one final savouring moment of the hot water, he turned around and figured out how to stop the shower.

As he expected, he was cold again almost instantly. But that was alright, he’d felt better than he had in a long time. He let out a deep sigh, and performed the switching spell to turn back into a demon. As soon as he did that, more water than he believed to be possible suddenly cascaded from being suspended on his wings, and it startled him when it all crashed loudly on the tile. 

Arthur stared at the floor for a brief moment, with wide eyes and with a racing heart. He guessed his angel wings must have absorbed a lot of water, and the spell just dissipated the wings, and not the water in them. Perhaps that was why they were always so clean looking when he switched. Using his tail to pull open the curtains, he stepped out carefully out of fear of slipping, and found a towel that he quickly wrapped around himself.

He let out a sigh, resting his hands on his hips. His red hair was dripping still, and it fell on his back, rolling down his spine in freezing tendrils. Shivering a little bit, he turned his head to observe his wings.

They were a little smoother, he discovered. Normally, the fragile skin was tautly bound around his bones, but he supposed the heat would relax some of the natural tension. He stretched them out carefully, trying to avoid making more water from his wings find his back.

Glancing to the front of the room and looking for his uniform, he discovered it was not where he put it. Frowning, Arthur looked around for it, almost certain he had left it by the door. Now a little unsure of himself, he walked around the small space, confused with his memory.

He found it after looking up on the side wall, where he discovered his black clothes neatly folded on top of a shelf-like stone protruding from the corner, his boots perched right next to them. Blinking, he took a cautious step towards the shelf, and carefully took down the uniform and the shoes.

Holding up the top at arm’s length, he realised it had been cleaned. It had been bloody and dirty from his unconventional trip to Earth, and he was certain of that. Even more confused, he held it a little higher. “Uh-”

“I didn’t see anything!” yelled a voice from outside the door.

Startled so badly that he dropped the shirt, Arthur quickly knelt and picked it up again. “I-I’m sorry?” he stuttered, alarmed to where he was almost shaking.

“I didn’t see anything, I promise! I just came inside to grab your uniform and I washed it for you! I swear I didn’t try to look at you!” Alfred said, this time a little less loudly.

“Jesus.” Arthur muttered, trying to slow his breathing and calm down. That was what he was worried about? Arthur didn’t really mind if he were honest, though he was slightly taken aback at realising that Alfred had come in the room while he was showering. It was a little embarrassing, he supposed, almost frightening considering the fact that he had been an angel. Then he thought about how much more embarrassing it must have been for Alfred. “Demon’s modesty…” he chuckled to himself.

“It’s fine, Alfred!” he called back after a moment. “I do not mind at all. Thank you, actually.”

He could hear awkward shuffling outside the door, and Arthur fiddled delicately with the towel around his waist, it’s placement reminding him of a high-angel’s uniform. Eventually, Alfred finally stopped moving so Arthur assumed he had flown away. Shaking his head, Arthur chuckled again a little wryly to himself before undoing the buttons of his red dress shirt and slipping his arms through the sleeves.

He had only just put his boots on when he finally couldn’t stand being in that room any longer, and hadn’t even put on the jacket. It hung over his shoulder as he tied up his laces, and he moved it under his arm as he walked out the door, trying to adjust his belt.

Immediately, he bumped into a taller figure and dropped the jacket in surprise, the third time being startled. He looked up, meeting the unnerved blue eyes of Alfred, who was equally surprised.

“Sorry!” Alfred also dropped to the floor, hurriedly picking up the jacket and handing it back to Arthur before the angel could even react. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be standing over here, I’ll just, um.” he turned and walked quickly towards the other side of the room.

Slightly befuddled, Arthur raised his eyebrows and frowned at the demon, who appeared to be bouncing nervously in front of the wide balcony. He opened his mouth to say something, and then glanced down, realising his belt was still undone. Hurrying to fix that, Arthur began to cautiously pad towards Alfred.

While he shrugged on his jacket and began to button it up, he looped around Alfred at a wide angle, a small smile teasing at the corners of his lips. “Er, Alfred. Is everything alright?” he asked, dipping his head and peering curiously at the demon.

“Yep! I’m good.” Alfred replied quickly, glancing nervously at Arthur before suddenly finding the sky outside rather interesting. He messed with his own jacket, and the tip of his tail twitched around at random.

Arthur’s smile fell and turned away to leave Alfred alone. The concept was astounding to him; the fact that demons could get so worked up over a potential loss of decency...Arthur shook his head and smiled to himself. He found it quite endearing, for some reason.

As soon as he’d faced the opposite wall, he felt a cool breeze from behind and immediately shivered. Maybe it was not such a brilliant idea to walk out so soon, when Hell was getting colder and his hair was all wet. The back of his neck and the top of the collar on his jacket were a little damp as well, and Arthur trembled in silent torment. ‘Damn this Hell,’ he thought bitterly, though the hell he referred to was the fact he was an angel, unable to ever get used to the temperature.

The quiet atmosphere returned, and it remained that way between the angel and the demon for awhile. Arthur thought he could feel Alfred watching him from wherever he decided to stand, but every time he glanced over, Alfred would be facing the other way. For most of the time, Arthur sat on the floor facing the inside of the room, while Alfred stood outside on the balcony. Arthur was worried, and stressed once he began thinking about the events of the last time he’d been awake. 

He had almost been killed. Just remembering it made his heart catch a couple of times in his chest out of fear; he could see very vividly with his mind’s eye. The cold and ruthless look of the demons, their harsh attacks on his defenceless body...Arthur flinched visibly when the memory haunted him, and he felt uncomfortable tingling running along his upper back where his wing had nearly been ripped off.

Absentmindedly reached for places that he slowly remembered had been injured, he felt that odd feeling spread when he touched the back of his head, his cheekbone where he remembered being cut, along his chest, and the fragile tips of his wings. The feeling made him shudder violently to the point where he quickly stopped and wrung his hands in his lap.

“What am I going to do?” he asked himself. He obviously wasn’t going to the Military Base, not after Phobos and Deimos tried to brutally tear him apart. He couldn’t really flee the city, because he still had business to tend to in the region. Besides, it wasn’t like he could make it far anyway...Shaking his head and letting out a sigh of frustration, Arthur leaned forward and rested his forehead in his hand. Curling his tail around his body, he dwelled on what he couldn’t do.

That was, until a shadow suddenly slid across the floor in front of him, alerting him enough to raise his head and watch as Alfred glided above him and landed neatly in front, with only a glance to him. Arthur met the demon’s eyes with a surprised look at first, before he calmed down and returned his gaze to the floor.

Alfred’s tail reached for Arthur’s, and he twisted their arrow-like tips together to get the angel’s attention. “Are you alright, Artie?” he asked curiously.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You have asked me that twice now.” he replied with a tired smile. He looked up at Alfred, only just then noticing how the angle he was sitting at made his eyes look. The clouds outside, behind Arthur, allowed for him to see how truly blue Alfred’s irises were. Entranced for a brief moment, Arthur stared at him for what felt like a very long time.

His smile only made his eyes even more bright, and Arthur was reminded with an aching heart of the only other place he’d seen such a vivid shade of blue. “Yea, yea, whatever dude. I’m still gonna ask, though.” Alfred grinned at him.

“I am fine, you git.” Arthur waved his hand as if to say that his well-being didn’t matter. He tried to look away at something, anything else, but he kept finding his way right back to Alfred’s stunning eyes.

Alfred seemed to notice, but didn’t know why. “...Do I have something on my face?” he asked, suddenly finding it difficult to maintain their eye contact, which Arthur could see by how he attempted multiple times to not look away.

“No, no, sorry, it’s just…” Arthur trailed off, his head tilting a little. “...You have eyes like the skies of Heaven.” he murmured in a quiet voice.

Blinking, Alfred averted his eyes, searching around the floor for a moment before he looked up again. “Uh, um.” he looked unsure of himself. “Th-thanks?”

Arthur realised what he said might not have sounded right to a demon. “That was intended as a compliment.” he added to explain, hoping it wasn’t an offencive comment with a little of a panicked look.

“Oh. Haha, thank you, then!” Alfred perked up immediately, that smile lighting up his face once more. “You have cool eyes too. Like the forests humans have on Earth. Real bright eyes.”

Arthur didn’t think he would receive a compliment in turn, and forgot what words were briefly. “I, er, thank you.” he said awkwardly, finally forcing himself to look away.

He watched their tails while Alfred thumped them against the floor somewhat playfully. Allowing himself a small smile, Arthur just knew this demon was something else.

“So…” Alfred said after a bit, grinning to himself. “What do you wanna do? Maybe the other demons who tried to help are waiting for us somewhere?”

Taking a deep breath, Arthur let it out slowly. “I doubt it.” his eyes flickered up to the demon. “I am not sure why they respected me before, but the fact that Phobos and Deimos are after me might make them switch sides.”

Alfred snorted. “Dude, have you, like, never met a demon before?” he snickered at Arthur’s worried and confused expression. “Those dudes are still loyal to you! And so am I. It takes a lot to make someone change sides like that, especially when there aren’t even any physical sides that we know. I mean, a lot a lot.”

“Alright, alright.” Arthur nodded. “If that is the case, then where would they be? Not at the Base,” he said quickly, when Alfred opened his mouth. “No, if Phobos and Deimos are after me, then why would they be at the Base? If we went there, for all I know, they would try to kill me again.”

“They’d have to go through us first.” Alfred supplied with a smirk.

Arthur shook his head. “Absolutely not. I will not allow you nor anyone else to endanger themselves like that. You have no reason to risk yourself for me. Phobos and Deimos are only after one person, and that is my battle.” he said firmly.

Scoffing, Alfred smiled in disbelief. “Dude!” he let out, and then waved his hands in front of Arthur’s face. “In case you forgot, you almost died yesterday! Right? In fact, I’m pretty sure I’d be looking at your head hanging from the Base right now if Ivan didn’t find all of your- our allies. Whether you like it or not, you have demons who’re on your side. And you’ve been attacked. So we’re gonna defend you. From like, all the bad guys and stuff.”

Arthur sighed and rested his elbow on his knee and brought his chin to his palm. “Who are the bad guys, Alfred? Is it just Phobos and Deimos? The demons who joined with them? Or the entire Demonocracy? What about us? We do not know and have no way of knowing quite yet. We should not be so quick to take action.”

The demon couldn’t think of anything to say to that, and settled for letting out a huff and shaking his head in a slightly annoyed manner. “Well, we gotta do something, dude.” he crossed his arms and made a face at the floor. Despite their disagreement, their tails remained intertwined.

They avoiding looking at one another for awhile, and Arthur began thinking about Phobos and Deimos again. Slowly, the increasingly traumatic events began to flash around his mind, ranging from being chased, landing on the highway, being faced with the demonic leers, and even back to when he was almost killed by Alfred’s Rage.

God, that tingling feeling again. Arthur unconsciously reached and pressed his fingers on his neck, and then along his chest like before. His breathing got a little faster when the memories began to quicken and become distorted. He could almost smell his own blood like he could when the actual attacks happened.

He could feel the bruises and the grips on him, the cold blood chilling his skin, the stiffness of his limbs. Shuddering a bit, Arthur pulled in a sharp but silent gasp when he remembered the demon’s faces, their wide grins at his suffering.

“Artie.” a hand gently touched Arthur’s shoulder, as if asking to come closer. When Arthur looked up with wide, fearful eyes, he saw Alfred kneeling and leaning towards him, seeming unsure and concerned. “Hey, what’s up?”

“N-nothing, I am fine.” Arthur mumbled, lowering his head and glancing away. 

When Arthur half-heartedly scooted away, Alfred advanced with him. “You were shaking. Your eyes were shut really tight. What’s wrong?”

Arthur shook his head. “I am fine!” he insisted, leaning back and trying to move backwards. But, a sudden yank on his tail made him freeze, and Alfred quickly moved closer, until he had Arthur loosely pinned beneath him. Arthur had forgotten their tails were entangled with one another, and he was distracted by the fact that a tug made his entire body go rigid. Was it a natural reaction to having the tail pulled on? Was that why Alfred did that?

“What’s wrong?” Alfred asked again, waiting until Arthur relaxed a little bit to dip his head a bit to match eye levels. They stared at one another for a while, Arthur rendered almost speechless by the demon. Somehow, they both remained as they were.

From the lack of a reply, Alfred shifted to get his weight on his knees so he could wrap his arms around Arthur. “...You’re still shaking. Are you scared?” he inquired curiously, 

Unable to do much else, Arthur merely nodded. He was frightened, yes, but he was also confused with Alfred’s sudden intimacy. Was the demon genuinely concerned about him?

He certainly seemed nervously determined to get something out of Arthur. “Are you scared of Phobos and Deimos?” Alfred continued in a quieter tone.

Arthur nodded again.

This seemed to worry the demon. “Are you scared of the other demons?”

Once more, Arthur nodded his head, knowing his face was etched with guilt.

Lifting his head a little more, Alfred looked at the angel with uneasy eyes. “...Are you...Scared of me?” he asked softly.

Taken aback, Arthur hesitated. Alfred didn’t seem to notice the slight panic that flashed in his eyes, for he did not want to either lie or tell the truth. But he knew that Alfred was his friend, and that nothing but the truth would be acceptable. His face twisting with more and more stress, he eventually made himself nod.

He watched as Alfred’s expression broke a little, and Arthur felt terrible for admitting it. It was almost unbearable to see the somewhat heartbroken feelings evident in Alfred’s face, and he turned his head away. Arthur remembered how Alfred had expressed that he never wanted anyone to be afraid of him. “I- I am sorry,” he let out in a slightly choked voice.

Alfred shushed him by shaking his head and leaning forward again, pressing his face into Arthur’s uniform. “No, no, no. I’m sorry. It’s my fault, you can’t help it if you’re scared.” He held Arthur tighter, but Arthur couldn’t ignore how sad he looked.

At first, Arthur tensed up with discomfort. But gradually, he found himself relaxing and slowly easing himself to where he was calmer. He took a deep breath and tipped his head forward so his nose barely touched Alfred’s black hair. Shifting his wings around so they sort of wrapped around them, Arthur gazed downwards at the demon holding him.

Silence rang around them, neither daring to move. It stayed that way for what felt like a long while, the only evidence of the time passing being a small breeze that whispered outside.

Sometime later, Alfred had gone quite still. His breathing had slowed considerably, and his grip around Arthur loosened to a weak clutch. It was only when Arthur shifted around a little bit, making his tail move, did Alfred give any sign that he was still alive.

He jumped in surprise at Arthur’s movement, and began to lift himself off of the angel. He looked tired all of a sudden, and Arthur noticed his eyes were narrowed like they had just been closed. “Have to get up,” he mumbled, squinting at Arthur before looking at the floor. “m’ falling asleep on you.”

Trying to hold it back to no avail, Arthur couldn’t resist a small chuckle at the demon. He didn’t realise Alfred had become that comfortable. Allowing Alfred to move, Arthur sat up and flapped his wings just hard enough to bring himself to his feet.

Alfred soon followed but without his wings, stumbling before catching his balance. He rubbed his face tiredly and shook his head, as if trying to dissipate the weariness.

“We should do something.” he said, looking at Arthur once he was done being half-asleep. “We won’t get anything done if we stay here. Maybe we should look for the others?”

Thinking it over, Arthur reasoned that there was nothing more to be accomplished at Alfred’s little place. Other than maybe to regain his bearings, but, after all this time, when did he ever have them? “Alright.” he nodded.

O~o~O

Although he found it difficult to hide, Arthur was extremely nervous to fly around the eerie streets of Hell so soon. It was too close, too near when he had been brutally attacked and almost killed. His only assurance was Alfred flying smoothly beside him.

He discovered that he was flying very well for his state; his lungs were working fine, and his wings felt stronger than they had in awhile. There was the fact that he could feel hunger crawling around in his stomach, but besides that, there was not anything he needed to worry about immediately.

The city was silent, and there didn’t seem to be a trace of anyone around for miles. Arthur knew better than to even begin to think that, but he would never get used to it. It was practically part of Hell’s anatomy, part of the dark skeleton the city seemed to be.

At first, the thought of flying around a giant ribcage amused Arthur, until he realised what he was thinking. Then he hated himself for such a dark imagination.

Letting out a rough sigh, Arthur followed Alfred carefully while they weaved through the structures with practiced ease. It was clear that neither of them had any idea where the rest of their allies were. 

They were beginning to get close to the Base. Remaining within the blackest shadows, it was an unspoken agreement to make more of an effort to remain unnoticed by whatever gleaming eyes watched over the place.

Arthur was about to make a sharp turn to keep behind Alfred when he felt a sharp pressure on his ankle just before he rounded the corner. Letting out a startled yip, Arthur was forced to halt and was dragged the other way. 

He froze. Gasping when he impacted the hard ground, he only had enough breath left in him to raggedly yell “Alfre-!” before he gagged on something that was stuffed in his mouth.

Struggling, he clawed at the ground and desperately flapped his wings, but he was going too fast in the other direction to really get a grip. Feeling his muscles go into shock, his wings suddenly wouldn’t unfurl all the way and he couldn’t move his hands.

“Arthur?” he heard Alfred’s voice echo from a distance, and that made his heartbeat go up. How far away was he?! He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t even breath around the dry cloth forced into his mouth. 

He squirmed and twisted, anything to get away. There were scratches on his cheek from being dragged along the concrete. His eyes were dangerously close to watering. The muffled cries that came from him were easily drowned out by the scraping noises that surrounded him. His shoulders tensed up as he remembered the highway and the Rage. Flashbacks were beginning to overwhelm him.

His movements were limited to slight jerks and muscles that tensed so sharply it hurt.

Finally, everything stopped. Choking on the large cloth that was partially caught in his throat, Arthur was forcibly brought to his knees, and then yanked upwards to his feet.

He was pushed against a wall, and struck it hard enough to make himself even more dizzy. Looking around with unfocused eyes and incoherent thought, Arthur could barely make out a taller figure looming over him.

“Paranomia.” it hissed, but the name could barely make it to Arthur’s ears. He began to sink down the brick wall weakly, but a fist grabbed the collar of his uniform and forced him to stand. “What is wrong with you?! Where is your strength?!”

Blinking unevenly, it became clear that Arthur could not answer. The only response he gave was a small gag on the cloth. He was very close to blacking out from lack of air.

A hand harshly gripped his jaw while another nearly bruised his mouth in reaching to grab the cloth and yank it out of his throat. Arthur abruptly began coughing uncontrollably.

“This was not supposed to have been easy, Paranomia.” the voice growled after several minutes of listening to Arthur’s fight for breath. “Did Phobos and Deimos injure you so badly that you forgot what you are?”

Gasping, Arthur blinked up with stinging eyes at a face he did not expect to see. “I-Ivan.” he let out in a guttural voice. He could not say much more beyond that.

The violet eyes of the demon narrowed. “Why are you so weak?” he spat. “Surely Phobos and Deimos did not break you already. I advise that you begin to explain yourself.”

After taking several rapid and shaky breaths, Arthur dragged his unfocused eyes up to Ivan. “Th-there is no-nothing to explain,” he rasped in a small voice.

“Lies,” Ivan seethed, roughly tilting Arthur’s head up when he threateningly grabbed his throat. Not tight enough to stop him from breathing, but enough to hurt. His furious look only darkened when Arthur let out an involuntary whimper, remembering the same situation with Alfred’s Rage. “I am not stupid, Paranomia, not like Alfred. I can see that you are not like the rest of us and I want to know why.”

Arthur felt his face twist into a pained snarl, and wasn’t sure if he was feeling saliva or blood dripping down his chin. “I-I am the same as you.” he told Ivan. “You kn-know me. You are not a f-fool.”

Ivan’s face curled into a harsh glare. “I am not sure I ever knew you, comrade.” he spat.

“Hey, hey, hey! Ivan, what the hell, man?!” a voice came echoing around too loudly for Arthur to know where exactly. But not long after, Ivan disappeared from his sight, and Arthur could hear him land on the ground. “What are you doing?! You saw him almost get torn apart yesterday and now you’re after him too?! Who’s side are you on?!”

Without anything holding him up, Arthur slid to the ground, feeling himself shaking. “Not- not again,” he muttered to himself, covering his head with his hands. “I cannot do this again.” He could hear scuffling before him, but not much more beyond that other than yelling.

Breathing as carefully as he could in an attempt to calm himself, Arthur peeked up at the two demons before him. He could see Alfred now, who’d thrown Ivan off of him. They appeared to be standing off, wings spread and heads lowered. 

“You of all demons should know that he’s not weak. He’s scared, just like you would be if you were almost murdered yesterday. The last thing he needs is one of his allies being his next threat!” Alfred snapped, seeming to be coming back for an argument.

Ivan let out a low growl. “This isn’t about fear, Alfred. This is about lies. Paranomia is clever and powerful, and you are an idiot if you honestly think he has not lied to us once.” he replied. “You may be blind to what’s beneath his mask, but I can see beyond it. I don’t know what it is, exactly, but Paranomia has made us put trust in a false hope.”

“False hope?!” Alfred scoffed, raising his wings even higher. “Do you really think he’s earned so much trust just to lie to us?! He committed to Opia with over half of us, and you know that no demon can lie through Opia.”

“Perhaps he is not a demon.” Ivan sneered, challenging by raising his wings as well.

He didn’t catch on to how Arthur’s eyes widened. “No,” he whispered weakly.

Alfred still held true to his belief. “Arthur would never lie to us. I trust him more than I trust any other demon in this damned place, and I sure as hell trust him more than you. He is our leader for a reason, and I’d gladly give my life for him.”

Arthur became aware to several presences, and looked up to see his allies surrounding Ivan and Alfred from above. They must have been watching the entire feud.

While they organised themselves, Alfred bared his teeth and growled one more time at Ivan before he turned his back to him and approached Arthur, aware that most eyes were on him.

“Artie,” he greeted quietly, offering his hand to Arthur to take. While he pulled the angel to his feet, Alfred made sure that Arthur was steady before he gently turned Arthur’s head, so he faced everyone else, and then leaned in.

Not even needing to question it, Arthur was still, almost calm as Alfred healed him. But he could not ignore the glower Ivan was giving him.

Beyond that, there was not anything very eventful to speak of. There was never any sign of Phobos or Deimos, or anyone hostile, really. Arthur’s allies spoke to one another, and even admitted to being afraid like Arthur did. After a while of slightly more civilised discussion, Alfred suggested that the group meet in Arthur’s alleyway everyday to decide what they should do. To Arthur’s slight disappointment, they all agreed easily to the arrangement. That meant Alfred was determined to keep Arthur with him at his place.

Before the group went their separate ways, Arthur thanked everyone for helping when Phobos and Deimos had attacked him. The demons didn’t seem to expect it, and insisted that it was nothing.

For some reason, Arthur felt as if he had gained more respect when he left their small gathering.

Over the span of what Arthur assumed had to be days, there were no more challenges presented to him or the group. Instead, he got used to somewhat of a routine; spend some time with Alfred, meet with their allies, and then return to Alfred’s place. Most of the time, he managed to sleep somewhere else, but Alfred managed to talk him into sleeping in his room quite a lot. Arthur had discovered that the large platform he slept upon was called a bed, but that was only after Alfred had burst out laughing at him for attempting to sleep on the floor.

Alfred rarely questioned why he slept for such a long time. But that was probably because he woke Arthur up after only about four hours of rest. He’d throw in an occasional “You sleep a lot, dude,” but that was it. On the nights when Arthur did not sleep at his place, he still never mentioned the late time Arthur met up with him.

Investigations and remaining hidden were what made up the secret gatherings of the group. A few demons at a time each few meetings would check around and see what was going on with the Demonocracy, but they were never able to bring back anything particularly informative. They seemed to be at a stalemate.

For the first time in a long time, Arthur felt relatively safe. Sometimes the demons would wish to sharpen their fighting skills by practicing with Arthur, and so he would leave sometimes with scratches and small wounds. But other than that, there was nothing majour.

Alfred even began to leave Arthur on his own. It was a slight relief, but sometimes Arthur would go entire days without seeing the demon.

One night, after a few days of sleeping on his own and feeling fairly confident, Arthur decided he wanted to stretch his wings. Not his demon pair.

He performed the switching spell as soon as everyone left and he could tell they were gone. Then, flexing his large and strong feathery limbs, the angel took a little bit of time to readjust to his natural body. With a slightly excited smile, Arthur took off to fly a short distance through Hell.

The feeling of being invincible had developed over the weeks without trouble. And despite the chills that made his exposed skin feel numb, Arthur felt so much more alive. He could remember how far he could fly with these wings, how powerful they were. For the first time in Hell, Arthur felt genuinely relaxed and confident on his own.

Following the foggy streets and dark shadows, Arthur was careful to remain in places where he wouldn’t stick out too much. He was certain at this time, demons were generally asleep, so he could get away with a quick lap around the region without being spotted.

The wind excited him. The speed was thrilling so much, that he even let out laughter as he spun and flipped around the alleyways and streets. He even dared to take to the skies, losing himself in joy that he had not felt in too long.

He had forgotten what it felt like to be an angel, and the reminder was welcomed. He appreciated the time with a content sigh and a real smile.

When he was almost halfway back to his alleyway, Arthur’s senses finally picked up on something that he dreaded. He was being watched.

“No.” he murmured, feeling himself tense with fear. “No, no, no, not now.” He picked up the pace, until he was racing back down to the shadows. Thinking of everything he could, he used a spell to make the shadows even thicker over his pale being and tried to silence his wingbeats.

The alarm was growing faster than he wanted. He was reminded then of the reasons he was afraid in the first place. The Rage, the Commanders, and Ivan...They all came back to frighten him like never before. He knew his flight was beginning to falter, and he prayed that he didn’t panic.

Please don’t let this be how I die. I cannot die yet, I am not done. I cannot die, I cannot die, I cannot-! He was startled out of his begging when he was tackled out of the air. He screamed.

Both he and his attacker spun around sideways briefly before Arthur felt their direction change upwards. The force of the flying rendered Arthur unable to fight back at first because he was dizzy, but he could tell the demon was too.

The offender seemed to struggle to lift Arthur, but they kept their arms tightly around the angel’s torso. Pulling in almost every direction, Arthur fought hard to get away, but he could feel himself crying and knew that he was too overwhelmed to do very much.

They finally reached something solid, and Arthur realised it was the roof of a small building surrounded by several other much larger structures. He squirmed harder as soon as his knees touched the concrete, but the grip on him wouldn’t give. Arthur even tried a magic spell, but his mind was too confused to think of anything.

“You’re gonna injure yourself if you keep struggling.” a voice above him panted. “If you jerk away any harder, you’ll break a wing.”

Arthur knew he was losing strength, but he pushed anyway, feeling his knees scrape along the ground. His throat was too constricted to say anything back, but a hitched sob made it clear that he was too scared to do much else than try to escape.

He was pushed backwards, and he lost his balance and fell on his back. Shocked into going still for a moment, he looked up, only to meet the eyes of the last demon he wanted to see.

Alfred?! 

Choking back any words he possibly had, Arthur remembered he was an angel, and no angel knew Alfred’s name. But it was unmistakable; those bright blue eyes couldn’t belong to anyone else. I am going to die by my best friend’s hand… The mere thought made him quiver and tear up even more. He reached up and practically slapped his hands over his eyes, not wanting to see anymore.

The demon looked over the angel curiously, and with a slightly worried look. “Hey...Why are you crying? Is that what angels do when they’re scared?” he asked, and now Arthur wondered why he didn’t recognise his voice at first. Keeping his hands over his eyes, Arthur nodded and turned his head, his small sobs making his figure shake a little.

“Hm.” Alfred crawled further over him, and experimentally reached to gently touch the top of the angel’s head. “You don’t have to be scared. I’m not gonna hurt you or anything.” he giggled like it was a silly thought. 

Shaking his head, Arthur let out a soft gasp and a slightly louder sob than before. Alfred was going to kill him and he knew it. That was why angels never returned from Hell. He froze when he felt Alfred’s hands gingerly hold his free wing down as to not hurt him, and when he felt the demon’s cold breath along his arm. “Y-you are go-going to kill me.” he said in a broken voice.

It was one thing to have an ally threaten to murder him. But when it was a situation like this, where his closest friend didn’t even know who he was killing, Arthur was reduced to just crying, unable to do anything else. Alfred would never know why Paranomia suddenly disappeared one day. Hell and Heaven would never find reconciliation. War would plague the realms and eventually kill them all off. The demons and the angels would hate and blame each other until the end. That was why he wept, because he was afraid of that future, and he was helpless to the mercy of a merciless creature.

“Why would I kill you?” Alfred replied in an oddly soothing voice. “I guess you don’t remember, do you? We were both really young. I’m kind of surprised that I recognise you.”

Arthur froze. “Wh-what?”

Seeming excited, Alfred carefully removed one of Arthur’s hands from his face. “Do you remember coming to Hell when you were young? Do you remember seeing a small, injured demon and healing him? I’m sure it was you. There are no other blonde angels like you.” he said, his expression looking hopeful.

“I…” Arthur squinted at Alfred, not making any move to take his hand back. “I-I, uh…” he thought hard, trying to think of anything remotely close to what Alfred described. At first, he could not remember a single thing about his childhood relating to Hell. But Alfred must have seen the flash of shock in his face because his eyes suddenly lit up.

“You do remember, don’t you?” he asked, smiling at the angel. “It was you, I’m sure of it. I can finally repay my debt…” he trailed off.

“...Debt?” Arthur dared to ask, his expression still looking fearful. There was no way this was possible. Alfred could not have been the demon he’d visited when he’d strayed from the angels showing him around the edge of Heaven and Hell...Could he? He hardly remembered the context of it, but he remembered seeing a demon. The memory was becoming more and more clear.

Alfred nodded. “Since you healed me, I’ve owed a debt to you for most of my life. I never thought I would see you ever again. I would have given anything to have that weight off of my shoulders.” he laughed to himself. “It’ll do us both a favour. You are injured, so I’ll heal you. And by doing that, I won’t have a debt. Is that okay?”

Never knowing that this debt had existed before, Arthur was still trying wrap his mind around what was happening. He didn’t know that debts were important to demons, nor that Alfred had an unpaid one in the first place. “How exactly, uh, do you heal me?” Arthur asked in a clumsy attempt to pretend he didn’t already know.

The demon made a small smirk, but his eyes looked at him knowingly. “Just relax.” he told Arthur. “It won’t hurt. Close your eyes if it helps.”

Arthur felt very conflicted. He trusted Alfred, but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t as an angel. Regardless, he had put himself into a state of uneven but calm feelings. He obediently let his body ease down and moved his hand back to cover his eyes once Alfred let go of his arm.

He could feel Alfred healing him, and tried to be disturbed. But this had happened too many times for him to truly be revolted like he had been that very first time.

It took a little while, but Alfred finished healing Arthur in places he didn’t even know were injured. The demon sat back up to look at Arthur, and tilted his head at the now still angel. “You stopped crying.” he pointed out, crawling off of Arthur. “And shaking. You’re okay now?”

Arthur nodded reluctantly, and sat up. Alfred was right; he had stopped both crying and trembling, and his heart rate was low again. “Yes, I am...Fine…” he faded off when Alfred suddenly leaned closer, looking at him very closely. “Wh-what?”

“Your eyes…” Alfred narrowed his own at Arthur, scrutinising him. “I feel like I’ve seen them somewhere before. Somewhere besides when I first met you.”

Calm quickly dissolving, Arthur’s eyes widened and he averted his gaze. He was still at risk of being recognised, if Alfred remembered that his eyes were the exact same when he was demon. Feeling panic rising, Arthur made a move to stand. “I-I have to go.” he said. “G-go back. I have to go b-back home.”

Alfred blinked. “So soon? Where do you have to be this late? Hey!” he called out when Arthur raised his wings. “I can help you get back! You’ll get lost or actually attacked here!”

Arthur ignored Alfred yelling after him and took flight, not caring where he was going. He had to hide, to lose Alfred, anything so he could change back. He was plagued with regret for being so foolish in the first place. 

The demon chased the angel as closely as he could, but a mixture of desperation and distress kept Arthur ahead. He took wild turns in random directions, hoping to lose Alfred for even a minute.

After only a little while, Arthur managed to take a sharp enough right that Alfred lost sight of him, and then he arced backwards into a narrow crevice between two tall walls. As soon as his feet touched the ground at the back of the dead end, Arthur performed the switching spell.

Perhaps he had done it too fast, or a little wrong. But the next thing Arthur knew, Alfred had flown in from below, and halted at the sight of who he knew as Paranomia. He opened his mouth, maybe to ask if he’d seen an angel. That was before his eyes focused on a small, white feather floating and twirling downward. Both the demon and the angel watched, one with confusion, and one with absolute dread. When the feather graced the ground, Alfred looked up at Arthur again, the recognition obvious when he met the same green eyes from before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUDE THIS CHAPTER IS ALMOST 9,500 WORDS!!! What just happened XD 
> 
> I have to be quick this time, so I'll get right into it!
> 
> This is the first song that is in Alfred's point of view. I didn't do any lyrical input of this song because I couldn't find a place(though, the beginning is from the song from last chapter), but I mostly find the tone of the song in itself to be what makes this chapter. ESPECIALLY THE GUITAR SOLO LIKE HOLY STARBITS GO LISTEN TO IT! Basically, the way I hear the song, Alfred is finally picking up on the things that make Arthur so suspicious. It's a major developing chapter, mostly because of the cliffhanger I left you with ;)
> 
> "All you've ever wanted, was someone to truly look up to you...And six feet underwater, I do..."
> 
> Did you catch on to the reference to the first chapter?! :D Or is everyone dead because I haven't updated in so long XD
> 
> **Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, the Bible, Muse, Linkin Park, or any of that other stuff.
> 
> So, I was told by a lovely reviewer that adding in what's up with me isn't a bad idea :3 Thank you, btw. So school is as stressful as ever, as you can see by the fact that I haven't updated in a month ^^' But my other hobby, running, is coming along great! I've also met a couple of new friends at my new school, and that kinda lessens the blow. Some of my new irl friends seem to want to read Messenger, which I find odd and kind of cool I guess XD I've also met a couple of new friends on Tumblr through Messenger, and oh my stars you guys are some of the nicest people ever XD Thank you so much :')
> 
> Uuhh sooo yea! Two more chapters left in this arc before I can move on beyond this! 
> 
> Hopefully it won't be another month before I update again, but just in case, Happy Halloween from The Messenger!
> 
> ~Madz


	17. Blackout (Alfred's Rage)

O~o~O

Breaking News: Two days ago, a mysterious accident occurred in the middle of a highway. A truck delivering goods to a nearby Costco received severe damage to the front in a collision. The driver, who was determined to not have been intoxicated in any way, is currently in the hospital after being injured, and is not predicted to make it. There has not been a report stating what caused the collision, and almost all the witnesses claim it happened out of nowhere, with no perceivable cause. Directly below the bridge the truck had been driving on, a similar accident occurred on top of a silver SUV. The survivors of that accident were two children, who lost their mother and older brother to the incident.

One man claimed it was an alien attack, and demanded the government take action immediately. Another said it was a ghost. However, the nearly incoherent words of the truck driver before he was taken to a hospital, as reported by a medic, claimed that a demon had been in the way. Another witness, the younger girl in the silver SUV, also said there had been a devil that crushed the car. Despite how far-fetched the concept might seem coming from the two first-hand witnesses, a demon being the cause of the two accidents would explain the humanoid indention in both vehicles.

O~o~O

‘Alfred snorted. “Dude, have you, like, never met a demon before?” he snickered at Arthur’s worried and confused expression. “Those dudes are still loyal to you! And so am I. It takes a lot to make someone change sides like that, especially when there aren’t even any physical sides that we know. I mean, a lot a lot.”’

‘Alfred still held true to his belief. “Arthur would never lie to us. I trust him more than I trust any other demon in this damned place, and I sure as hell trust him more than you. He is our leader for a reason, and I’d gladly give my life for him.”’

O~o~O

“Oh, my…” a voice purred, floating around the dim, glowing blue room. “This does not look too good…”

The smirking angel who spoke remained unaware of the sheer horrified expression of the one behind him.

“N-no…” he whimpered.

Stalking around the room with an unbroken grin, silver eyes alight with greed shone through the magic blue lights dancing around the room. He watched the charged stare between the two beings that solidified the end, the Bereft’s Fate. “Time for the Blackout~,” he sang eerily, his voice fading off into low chuckling.

O~o~O

Everything was frozen, stilled by the heavy atmosphere and weighed down by the silence. The suspense that pulsed around the chilled air was deafening. Like an intricate network of blood veins weaving themselves in endless, aimless patterns, of such was the intensity of the time that passed. The gravity of it seemed to grow heavier with each passing second.

The demon’s suddenly dark irises flickered from the small, innocent feather, to Arthur’s terrified eyes. He let out a slow breath, understanding reflecting in his face. One could easily see the realisation as he put one and two together with a solemn frown, now able to see the truth clearly.

He released a slightly heavier huff, his head lowering until he was glaring. His breathing getting heavier and faster, the demon’s fists clenched and his nose scrunched up until he looked like he was snarling, revealing his fangs. By this point, he looked furious, and in turn the tension between the demon and the angel built up with his anger.

Arthur’s heart pounded. His knees felt weak with fear, and his expression absolutely fell with panic. His wings went stiff, and even his tail wouldn’t move fluidly anymore. The disgusted, betrayed look on the demon’s face...It was all there to see, and he couldn’t even hide or deny it at this point. The little things had given him away, and the flimsy, tattered curtain that hid the truth fell, fluttering down to the ground with the force of discovery. Just as the feather had.

They maintained their electric eye contact for a moment, one pair of eyes wide and afraid, the other narrowed and accusing. All those promises, the closeness they had built...It seemed to have been forgotten in the moment. The sky collided with the earth, creating such a massive detonation between the two that it only increased the rough storm between them. There was enough anger to rival a hurricane, and enough panic to rival the city disaster was headed towards.

Closing his eyes and looking down, Alfred appeared to tense up. “I’m stuck on this bed you made,” he murmured quietly, almost hissing. As he said this, both the demon and the angel took a step as if circling one another, Alfred towards the dead end of the concrete crevice and Arthur towards the edge. “Alone with a sinking feeling...I saw through the words you said, to the secrets you’ve been keeping.”

Stumbling back a little, Arthur pulled in a sharp breath, watching the demon warily. From there, he was petrified, and rooted to his spot.

Suddenly looking up at him and gesturing carelessly to the angel, Alfred continued. “It’s written upon your face, all the lies, how they cut so deeply! You can’t get enough, you take and take and never say…”

He trailed off for a moment, looking back up at Arthur. The instant they met eyes, Arthur’s face paled in horror. They were red. Oh God, they were red. Feeling nothing but frenzied and hysterical fear, Arthur almost crumpled and fell to his knees.

“NOOOOO!” Alfred suddenly screamed, startling Arthur enough to jump and flutter backwards, half-falling and half-gliding towards the edge. “YOU’VE GOTTA GET IT INSIDE, YOU PUSH IT BACK DOWN! YOU PUSH IT BACK DOWN, NOOOOO! YOU’LL NEVER GET IT INSIDE, PUSH IT BACK DOWN, BLACKOUT, BLOOD IN YOUR EYE!”

He jumped for it. Getting as much footing as he could on the gritty pavement, Arthur clumsily sprinted for the edge, where he opened his wings to run, as fast and as far as he could. Driven by sheer terror, he somehow managed a smooth turn and a dive to the shadows.

It was a given that he was being chased, and he knew this too well. It was very reminiscent of the last time Arthur had been this afraid, and even before to when he first encountered Alfred’s Rage. Through the blood roaring in his ears, Arthur could hear the demon follow him over the edge and take off, but from there he lost it and wasn’t able to pinpoint where he was. That scared him enough to surge forward faster than he meant to.

Swerving around a corner, Arthur already felt his lungs paying for his fear. Gasping and trying to recover, he realised the only thing that kept him going was the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. His eyes were wide. His breath was shaky despite how hard it was. He narrowly missed diving straight into a wall with a corner cut too sharply.

It made no difference to his pursuer, who seemed to keep up easily. “You say that it’s not your fault, and swear that I am mistaken! You say it’s not what it seems, no remorse for the trust you’re breaking!” he heard the seething voice behind him, sounding smooth even as it echoed around the alleys. Arthur couldn’t tell if it was close or far away. Not daring to look back, he sped through pathways, weaving through protruding pipes and walls of crumbling buildings around the area.

He was flying so fast that he could barely process the blurry shapes. Achieving a velocity he didn’t believe he could at his height, he took several confusing turns and dives and flips. His wings felt strained. Taking a right, he actually flew through the centre of a building before abruptly diving and going along the damp ground again. No matter how he took advantage of gravity, he could still hear the demon too close for comfort behind him. “You run, but then back you fall, suffocate in the mess you’re making! You can’t get enough, you take and take and take and take…” the voice paused, seeming slightly breathless with anger. “ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?!”

Tears sprung to Arthur’s eyes. The guttural screaming chilled him to the bone. It frightened him continuously, because it was the voice of a monster he had only nightmares about. He ran, driving himself onward with everything he had.

“NOOOOO! YOU’VE GOTTA GET IT INSIDE, YOU PUSH IT BACK DOWN! YOU PUSH IT BACK DOWN, NOOOOO!” Alfred roared in a deeper, harsher tone. It was getting louder. Arthur let out a desperate cry when it was amplified by the closed space on the alleyway. Using his arms and even his legs to launch himself further and faster, he tore down the city into places he’d never seen, and probably never would. “YOU’LL NEVER GET IT INSIDE! PUSH IT BACK DOWN, YOU PUSH IT BACK DOWN, NOOOOO! YOU’VE GOTTA GET IT INSIDE, YOU PUSH IT BACK DOWN! YOU PUSH IT BACK DOWN, NOOOOO! YOU’LL NEVER GET IT INSIDE! YOU PUSH IT BACK DOWN, BLACKOUT, BLOOD IN YOUR EYE!” the horrible screaming continued, almost scaring Arthur enough to sob. He was losing his breath fast, and no longer knew where he was going. He took any turn in any direction he could.

The wind suddenly got heavier. Gasping for breath, Arthur swore the city changed beneath him, as he was forced upward by the powerful draft. He still kept on going, driven by panic. Everything seemed red, even the clouds took on a sort of brownish hue above him. The wind made the dust from the crumbling city whirl around, and Arthur choked on the dirt while it stung his eyes.

Twirling around an ominous, broken-down Cathedral that was about to fall to the ground and panting heavily, Arthur realised the voice had stopped. As he attempted to get back down along the stone streets, he dared to throw a glance over his shoulder.

The sight shocked him enough to almost fall backwards before he remembered how to fly. The demon that was behind him couldn’t be Alfred, it just couldn’t. His now spiny and rough horns had grown and curled into a full circle, extending far from his head. His skin had turned grey, almost stony looking, and his uniform had torn in several places from the fast flight and his sudden increase in size. He was a lot bigger than the demon Arthur knew before. His face looked far beyond demented, and his tail seemed to have gotten thicker. Lashing it out like a whip while he dove towards Arthur, the tail smacked into the biggest pillar of the building and immediately made the entire foundation crumble. And those eyes...The eyes were the worst. Arthur was crying openly when he looked into fiery eyes the colour of death, of fury. Of Rage.

Somehow, Rage had made Alfred morph into some sort of high level demon, distorted and powerful, with nothing but vengeance carved into his corrupted features. 

Arthur turned in a vain attempt to escape, but the demon was coming too fast. The force of the diving monster knocked into him so roughly that Arthur went limp for a moment before he tried struggling again. He felt absolutely useless. His normally powerful hits and blows had no effect on the demon.

Strong arms gripped his torso and hurled Arthur to the ground once they had gotten close enough, and the concrete cracked with the sheer power behind the throw. The angel’s body twitched, his red hair matted with both dust and sweat. Dizzily lifting his head to search for the attacker, Arthur tried to move and attempt to take flight, only to freeze at the roar again. The demon was yelling at him in that monstrous voice, and Arthur shook violently in trying to move.

His mind couldn’t process words. Everything was going dark. Helpless to the wrath of the arc demon, Arthur’s entire body tensed and he screamed when claws and fangs alike sank into his shoulder and lower back. He was taken upwards, squirming in pain, and promptly thrown into a wall. The yelling had continued, but the words all blended together and Arthur couldn’t understand any of it.

After sliding down the wall of the confined alleyway and landing on his back, the assault didn’t cease. He was dragged, with an anguished wail, around the ground while being ripped into by claws sharp enough to penetrate skin with a mere stroke. His body was thrown around easily, and he was lifted and dropped back on the ground several times. He was punched, bitten, scratched, dragged, and heaved so fluidly and roughly, Arthur felt like he was falling down a waterfall. He was tormented by gashes all over his chest down to his thighs, and he kept getting bitten in the same places along his shoulders, arms, and back. Something snapped in his arm after being dropped again, and something else stung so horribly that Arthur shrieked when he was once again flung into a wall. Everything was moving too fast for him to know exactly what was happening, and it was torture. His hopeless crying got weaker and more tortured with every blow. 

Eyes barely able to stay open, Arthur could still make out the twisted demon, and he let out a thick sob when he could see the horrible red eyes. They were practically glowing with hatred, enough to where a mere glare could bring an army to its knees.

The demon held Arthur up by his collar, something which seemed to have happened a lot recently, and slammed him into a wall before a series of punches hard enough to shatter boulders fell all over his body. Writhing against the impossible grip, Arthur howled in pain as he was yanked roughly from the wall and made to collapse on the ground. Small rocks cut into his cheeks, making his already bleeding, bruised, and dusty face worse. He received kicks in rapid numbers, making him convulse to the point where he couldn’t breathe, before he was taken up again.

With one arm, the demon grabbed Arthur by his neck and lifted the angel off his feet. “N-no-” Arthur gagged, coughing on blood. He couldn’t lift his wings, and he was certain that several bones had broken. The pressure around his neck tightened, threatening to crush his throat right then and there. Blood began to trail down his chin from the corners of his mouth, and his body mindlessly resisted, his feet seeking some sort of hold and his hands clawing uselessly at the demon’s grip. “P-pl-ease, n-nn-o...” His eyes began to roll back into his head, and the demon held him there until his hoarse breathing stopped on one last choke.

Adjusting his hold on the fainting angel, the demon spun around and hurled Arthur one last time against the wall. Arthur crashed into it upside-down with his head and shoulders taking the worst of it, and he had already gone limp while pieces from the wall fell around him. The weight of his torso and the curve of his back made his lower body slump over more, so his knees touched the ground above his head. His arms were splayed out uselessly like his wings, and he closed his eyes that way.

He would have given everything in that moment to be dead, as the pain was too much to bear. There was nothing he could do, he had no options of survival left. He had no reason to be alive anyway, not when he had no time left. No room to make a plan. Somehow, he could even hear the approach of the demon coming to give him death. That was almost a relief; death would be merciful to his wounded heart and soul.

But then he remembered the feather in his pocket.

There was an option. With a slightly alarmed and heavier breath that pained his barely-functional lungs, Arthur’s eyes fluttered open a little, enough to make out the upside-down and looming silhouette of the huge monster walking towards him. He could choose death. He could choose to let himself go, but somehow, through the blaring and throbbing agony he was enduring, he decided against that.

Adjusting himself as best as he could and lifting his shaking hands, Arthur gritted his teeth and performed the switching spell.

Alfred froze at the bright light, and Arthur somehow found the strength to let out a strained and airy laugh. This could work. 

Pushing himself from the wall in a daze, the injured angel in his natural form turned over and lifted himself onto his knees, trying to ignore the dizzy flashes that threatened to make him keel over again. He had thought that transforming wouldn’t make any difference to his wings, but he had predicted wrong; his white, feathery limbs appeared to be much better off than his demon ones, but they were still injured and stained with red blood. Raising them experimentally, Arthur reckoned they were still strong enough to lift him. They were shaky, but he trusted his wings. He had to.

He looked up with bleary eyes to the demon, who was still staring. His vision had been made fuzzy, so he couldn’t see any details. But he could still make out the lack of movement. Coughing and lifting one leg so he was on one knee, he steeled himself with a rough breath. Knees and hands quivering, he raised his head and pushed off from the ground, spreading his wings.

His take-off was clumsy, but he was in the air. After only a few small flaps, Arthur had made it much higher than he expected, and continued to ascend. His only hope was to fly as far as he could, even if it wasn’t in any particular direction. He was surprised at how strong his wings were after all his time in demon form, unlike when he last flew as an angel. Finding that he could flap even harder, he did. It hurt, oh God, it hurt like Hell. But he could live. He could actually go faster, go harder, and find his way back home.

The vague and undefined idea of home somehow made him grin weakly, forgetting any doubts he had. 

Arthur knew his chances of not being chased were slim, but he was calm now despite that. He blamed it on being injured senseless; there were probably many chemicals running through his blood to dumb down the pain and make his fuzzy mind temporarily placid.

Wiping blood from his brow with a trembling hand, Arthur flew onwards and upwards, trying to take the simplest and straightest routes he could. The wind somehow made it easier for him to fly, for now it was at his back instead of his head. That made it a little easier on his aching muscles and wounded body, and he wondered what sort of power was keeping him in the sky.

Gradually, the over the time of his journey, the wind and dust died down until the city was back to it’s dank grey atmosphere. It was also colder now, and Arthur glanced down at his small tunic, with only Zadkiel’s scarf keeping him warm. It was bloody, dusty and torn, and he wasn’t surprised. His demon uniform probably wasn’t in much better shape.

He rose higher and higher in the sky, shivering and wincing as the cold stung his many injuries. Arthur noticed that he couldn’t feel his right hand. When he tried to move it, a sharp pain jolted through his arm like lightning, and he let out a startled yelp. Carefully holding his arm with his other hand, he tried to the best of his dazed ability to follow the wind. He flinched at nearly every movement.

The wind got louder again as he rose up, and, squinting, he swore he could see light. Was he really getting close to Heaven? He panted, the flight beginning to tire him out again. The calmness and lack of pain could only last for so long.

Slowing a little, Arthur felt his head ache even more than before. Raising his uninjured hand, Arthur rubbed his eyes, and noticed when he brought his palm back, it was suddenly grey. He guessed it was from all the debris on his face, or rather, all over his body. He was shocked to discover when he looked down at his arm and legs that they were layered with grey stone dust over the various cuts and bruises he’d collected.

“A-Arthur!” a distant voice yelled.

Jumping, Arthur slowed his rise until he was merely flying in place, and he turned around, bracing himself to go at any moment. The wind whipped his blonde hair and white feathers around, and, clutching his arm, he looked fearfully down at his caller. The clouds were a pale grey, lighter than they usually were in Hell.

Blue eyes.

That was the first thing he saw. The ones he’d grown to trust. Alfred was panting even heavier than Arthur was, but he probably wasn’t nearly as exhausted as the angel. It was still very difficult to get this high with demon wings.

He wasn’t twisted and horrifying anymore, he looked normal now. His horns were their normal length, his wings with shorter claws, and his tail thin. Something must have caused the Rage to ebb away, and Arthur couldn’t even begin to wonder why. The demon looked up at Arthur desperately.

“Are you...Are you going home? Back to He-Heaven?” he asked breathlessly, his expression upset and worn out.

Arthur hesitated, wanting to turn around and fly away, but from his mind to his aching, tensed muscles, prepared like a deer to flee, something kept him still. Something more than just fear. He had a feeling it was the look in those despairing blue eyes, those eyes he’d gotten to know so well over all this time. Turning his body to face Alfred now, he nodded. Tears threatened to form in his eyes again, his only thought being how this same demon had tried to kill him not too long ago.

Alfred looked sad now. “Damn it, I-I’m so sorry, Arthur, I-” he had to stop to catch his breath, gasping quickly. “I can’t ever expect you t-to forgive me. I don’t even know why I got s-so angry-” 

Backing up a little, further in the sky, Arthur watched the demon’s hopeless expression while his own became painfully fearful.

“You...You’ve opened my eyes to things I thought were way out of my reach.” Alfred struggled for words. “Y-you’ve also done things you regret, b-but you can let all of that go! With th-this war going on, will Heaven take you back? Why were y-you even down here anyway? I don’t think angels regularly leave Heaven for Hell to pretend to be a demon, do they?”

He didn’t appear to expect an answer, trying to flap his wings harder to get higher when his height fell a little. But Arthur shook his head anyway, looking away. Alfred was obviously trying to reach him, and it certainly was not easy.

The demon gritted his teeth, flying himself until he panted too heavily for words. But he looked up at Arthur with wretched determination. 

Watching him with alarm, Arthur’s eyes widened when Alfred held out his hand. “P-please...Come back down with me.” he almost sounded like he was begging. “I-I don’t know...If I know who you are any-anymore, but you can’t just leave! I know I hurt you, but w-we…” he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Arthur was almost tempted to take his hand. Dizzily swaying to the side, he started to shake his head, feeling his head throbbing with pain, his aches and scratches all hurting. He wasn’t sure if it was a tear or a drop of blood going down his face.

“Y-you were right, we...W-we have to stop all this fighting. Your...Our allies, they were waiting, we were all waiting for s-someone like you, even if we didn’t realise it. We n-need you, to make things right. Come down, w-we can...We can fix this. I can h-help you let go!” his face twisted urgently, looking distraught at Arthur’s apparent intentions to fly away. “P-please, Arthur! C-come back down with me!”

The angel had never seen such a genuinely distressed look on a demon. Turning his head to glance up at Heaven, Arthur’s eyes almost closed and he nodded off briefly before flying again, catching himself from falling. It was evident how tired he was, how worn he had become. Alfred looked worried, but couldn’t fly up any further. 

Arthur knew it was inescapable now. All his troubles up until then running through his head, the idea of Heaven suddenly seemed very bleak and dark. He was still frightened out of his mind, but there was nothing he could do. There was nowhere to go, no words to say. Either way, he would likely die. Heaven was tempting, yes, but he could not forget everything that had led up to that very moment. Yet in comparison, Hell was almost too much to bear.

But Alfred...Alfred had been special all throughout the time the angel had known him. He always had Arthur’s back, always trusted him, always fought with him despite how Arthur had been a living lie the entire time. And over the past few days, they spent almost everyday in each other’s company. The demon was so kind, afraid of his own power. Arthur had never met anyone so loyal, so open, so free. Someone who would turn his back on hatred just to chase after an angel.

In that moment, he knew there was no way he could deny to the hand reaching out for him.

Tilting his wings and reaching cautiously like a frightened animal, Arthur hesitantly flew closer. He was still afraid, so afraid of coming near the demon. But, after a long moment, Arthur delicately let his trembling hand rest in Alfred’s. Seeing relief in the demon’s blue eyes, as well as infinite apologies, Arthur felt himself being pulled closer in a warm embrace.

Bringing his hurting arms around Alfred’s neck, Arthur let out a quiet sob. He felt gentle hands, far from the rough ones that gripped him before, tenderly wrap around his injured figure and hold him closer. Both the demon and the angel almost fell, their wings slowing their constant flapping once they’d relaxed a little. But they quickly caught each other, weary and finished with the night.

The demon was calmer, content even, with returning to the darkness. The angel was still in shock, still frightened of being held in the demon’s arms. But the light had abandoned him long ago, in the cruelest way, so there was but one place left for him.

The demon known as Paranomia and the angel known as the Bereft One was one and the same now, reduced to so little by fear. He held onto the demon with the weakest of holds, barely able to breathe. He could not bring himself to trust the demon, not yet, for he had been damaged too badly for it to be that easy. But the poor angel was too exhausted to resist, and he needed something to support him. That was why he let the tears fall, in healing trails down his cheeks, and conceded to the warmth that promised him comfort through the suffering he beared.

‘Floating down, as colours fill the light, you look up from the ground, in fields of paperwhite...And floating up, you pass us in the night, a future gazing out, a past to overwrite...So come down, far below, we’ve been waiting to collect the things you know...Come down, far below, we’ve been waiting to collect what you’ve let go…

Come down, oh…

Come down...ohh….’

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are halfway through the Blackout! Ahh man, I actually managed to update on Halloween XD That's pretty cool I guess!
> 
> I'M SO MAD BECAUSE I COULDN'T MAKE IT LONGERRRR
> 
> But it's alright, next chapter will bring this arc to an end! And it will also be the second half of this. That's right, this is only half a chapter XD
> 
> So! Here's the analysis. Blackout is a song by Linkin Park, and it's very angry and harsh. It's in Alfred's pov like last chapter! I used all the lyrics in this chapter, the rapping sequence for the chase, and the melodic part for the end. The first part of it is very accusing and furious, and Bennington screams in this song, which I used bolded words for. It does sound kind of demonic XD But it's a catchy song and I highly suggest listening to it. There is a distorted part with screaming that I tried to describe for when Arthur was getting attacked ^^' Also, the song does have a curse word and it's among the few songs in Messenger that will, I just adjusted the lyric in the story.
> 
> Also, I feel like Bennington's voice would be Alfred's and Bellamy's would be Arthur :D Especially because Bennington is American and Bellamy is British XD But I just think their voices are pretty close to how I imagine hearing Alfred and Arthur.
> 
> The very end, I think, is very beautiful. I hear it as Alfred begging for Arthur to 'come down' to Hell. It sort of describes going to return to Heaven, like with 'fields of paperwhite' and 'floating up to pass us in the night.' It's in that moment that Alfred overcomes his Rage and realises there are more important things that matter, and that he can understand there are bigger things at stake. That's why he says 'We've been waiting to collect the things you know', and 'we've been waiting to collect what you've let go.'
> 
> It's gonna take a lot to repair the damage he's done, but Alfred is determined to do whatever it takes. That is how I will end this chapter, where Arthur needs healing both physically and mentally before he can trust anyone ever again. 
> 
> **Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, Linkin Park, Hetalia, or the second circle of Hell, yea all that stuff.
> 
> Happy Halloween! I thought I wouldn't be able to do it, but I published the scariest chapter ever so far! Kinda fitting, hmm? XD 
> 
> And I will ask once more before I go...Are you still ready for the Blackout? ;)
> 
> ~Madz


	18. Blackout (Arthur's Waltz)

O~o~O

“What...What is this? What is he doing?!”

“I do not kn-know, sir.”

“What happened to the Rage?! Why is he not trying to kill the angel?!”

“I-it appears to have worn off, s-sir.”

“How?!”

O~o~O

The only noise that could be heard was simultaneous panting.

The angel and the demon held on tightly to each other, the demon a little more carefully because he knew the angel was grievously injured. The two beings were exhausted and they knew it; the angel was practically on the verge of fainting and looked terribly beaten in.

Holding their embrace for what felt like a while, the demon gasped for breath and allowed the angel to cry until he calmed down, clutching the demon’s jacket with weak hands. A million words needed to be said but none could be spoken, not yet. The city was thankfully silent, except for the light and the dark desperately holding one another. 

Arthur felt himself being held tenderly, but each small movement made something hurt, regardless of that. He let out a slight yelp when his arm moved from their wing beats becoming uneven, and Alfred looked at him in alarm. The question was evident in his wide blue eyes; are you okay? But the answer was just as obvious, so it remained unasked.

Of course he wasn’t okay.

Releasing one side of the angel, Alfred delicately pulled him closer and faced the east. “Let’s go home, little buddy.” he murmured softly to him.

Adjusting his grasp on the angel, Alfred tried to assist him so he could fly, only to have his hands brushed away. Arthur shook his head when the demon reached for him again, and flew himself. At first, Alfred refused to, seeing that the angel was about ready to fall. But Arthur was determined, if shaky, and he didn’t need to be frightened any more. Reluctantly, Alfred backed off and nodded, turning so he could lead the way.

Fighting back more tears, Arthur followed as best as he could. He felt so dizzy, like he could fall at any moment. He was amazed that he was still flying, because logically, there was no way he should be able to. But, despite how shaky his wings were, they still managed to keep him in the sky.

The angel and the demon glided, inclining gradually down further into the city. They had been very high, and it was awhile before they started seeing buildings again. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Arthur wondered if demons had a natural homing instinct; Alfred seemed to know exactly where he was going, whereas Arthur didn’t have a single clue. Perhaps his normally good sense of direction was just thrown off balance. 

There were several times Arthur thought he’d flipped upside down, and he could only just catch Alfred’s repeated glances full of concern. Somehow, he got too tired to even remember how to be exhausted. Breathing became something that he had to think about, lest his body start to black out. It seemed almost too hard to regulate it correctly. Struggling to even keep his hazy eyes open, Arthur caught glimpses of the blurry grey shapes of the towers and crumbling cathedrals through the foggy Hell.

Everything hurt. More times than he would be comfortable with saying, Arthur’s body almost gave out. He wanted so badly to just stop, stop flying, stop breathing, stop living, and at that point, he had no idea what drove him.

The flight seemed to go on forever through the unfamiliar and unwelcome place. Arthur felt that at any moment, demons would come to eat him, angels would appear to chase him away, or Alfred’s Rage would emerge again...Too horrified to even think about it anymore, Arthur choked back a breathless sob.

Alfred cast a glance back at him. “Hey, we’re almost there.” he informed the angel softly, slowing up a little. “You gonna make it-?” before the demon could even finish talking, Arthur had nodded nervously and faced away, trying not to gasp too sharply or breathe too loudly.

Looking torn, Alfred watched him worriedly in response, but kept flying.

Weakly flapping his giant white wings, Arthur looked blearily ahead, where he couldn’t even really tell what he was headed for. His height was declining more than he meant to, and the areas ahead seemed darker than everything else. From the corner of his eye, Alfred disappeared suddenly, and before Arthur could even be confused, he felt himself being lifted over a short stone barrier he had been right about to crash into.

Startled, Arthur immediately lost control of his flight, and fear rushed through his body faster than he could think to do anything. Alfred reappeared again, but in front of him this time, to catch and steady the angel.

With no other reaction his body was capable of doing, Arthur trembled. He could feel himself being slowly lowered to a floor, his wings drooping and his knees becoming weak, and he could also feel another tear sliding down his cheek. A gloved hand reached up slowly, making Arthur flinch, before a thumb gently brushed across his face. “Shh, shh…” he heard an uncertain but soothing tone. “It’s okay, shh...”

They were on the balcony that led into Alfred’s small place, Arthur realised. Being the only entrance, he didn’t remember it being so big. Then again, he was dazed out of his mind.

He didn’t even realise he’d been rocking back and forth until his mind caught up with motion again; his wounded body was held close to Alfred, and the demon shifted to and fro with Arthur’s exhausted movements. Somehow, it calmed him for the time being. His shoulders were tensed however; he was still nervous about being so close to Alfred.

The angel lost track of time. Almost unable to keep his eyes open, Arthur found himself leaning almost completely into Alfred with his head lowered shamefully, face pressed into the demon’s uniform. He couldn’t find the strength to look up, or the bravery. He was so, so weary. The angel almost looked like a dull statue because of all the dust and debris on his body.

Arms that were stronger than Arthur believed to be possible carefully shifted from around him to his torso, seeking to lift him. Wincing, Arthur pulled in a sharp gasp when Alfred’s hands pressed into bruises and other wounds. “N-nn-!”

“S-sorry! Hell, I’m so sorry!” Alfred rushed to apologise, releasing him quickly as Arthur dazedly tried to shift away. “Damn it, how am I gonna do this…?” he looked frustrated with himself, and quickly reached forward when Arthur stumbled back a step. “Here, here, I got you. I’m sorry, it’s gonna be okay.” he caught Arthur, and kept trying to assure the frightened angel.

Breathing rather hard, Arthur tilted his head up as much as he could. His eyes were wide and fearful, like a doomed animal facing death. Alfred’s eyes were also wide, and though Arthur’s vision kept blurring out, he could see the unsure look the demon had. He didn’t know what to do.

“I’m gonna…” Alfred’s quiet voice sounded confused and slightly afraid. “I’m gonna try to heal you, okay? Just...Please don’t try to fly away or anything...I know you’re scared, and that you probably can’t trust me anymore. B-but there’s nothing else I can do, I have to repair the damage I’ve done…” he looked over Arthur’s wounded form, his expression looking more and more pained as his eyes flitted over every single injury upon the angel’s once flawless figure. 

Taking a careful step forward, Alfred accidentally made Arthur back up into the stone railing, and hesitated. “I’m so...I’m so sorry…” he let out sadly, leaning closer and closer. Arthur mindlessly tried to move away, but he was already pressed up hard against the stone. He was practically cornered. 

Arthur shut his eyes tightly when Alfred didn’t stop, expecting nothing but pain. He tried to back up, anything to get away, and he flinched when he instead felt tentative lips upon his cheek in apology. It was a kiss, he vaguely recalled the term. The unharmful gesture, however gentle, did not prevent him from shuddering nervously in response.

The demon’s face remained close to Arthur’s for a brief moment, and during that time, Arthur was too scared to even breathe. “I’m so sorry…” he heard again, shivering when the cool breath chilled his exposed, bloodied, and dusty skin even more. “I’m so, so sorry…” The apologies didn’t stop, even when Arthur became aware of Alfred healing him in various places.

The angel continued to tremble; his small tunic was in no way meant to handle colder temperatures, and he was still very scared despite all that had just happened. He wasn’t even strong enough to hold up his wings, and that was supposed to be second nature. Alfred kept working on healing Arthur, and murmured his faint apologies into the angel as he went. 

Letting his eyes slide closed, Arthur’s breathing became a little more irregular. Inhaling sharply upon contact and exhaling shakily, Arthur couldn’t stand still and relied almost completely on the railing for support. Alfred tried to help with that too, but even the slightest grip on him now resulted in a slight squirm of protest; the most Arthur was capable of at that point. The time that passed felt like an eternity, and Arthur feared his body would give out before it ended.

The only thing that alerted him to his own nodding off was his wings being raised a little bit. Abruptly waking up again, Arthur lifted his head to catch the fuzzy view of Alfred quickly moving his hands away.

“S-sorry.” Alfred apologised again, backing up a step so he wouldn’t be close enough to touch the other. Arthur’s wings drooped again, and he looked up pathetically at the demon. “Can you...Stand?”

Oddly a little more conscious than before, Arthur’s hazy gaze fell to his feet, where he could vaguely see his sandals, as well as the gold straps that wrapped all the way up his calves. It was strange; he now had a bit of footing, and could balance. Facing up again, he nodded weakly. “I…” he interrupted himself with a cough, and spoke hoarsely. “I can.”

Alfred nodded and took in a deep breath, clasping his hands behind his back and standing straight like he was resisting the urge to reach forward. “I, um.” he cleared his throat. “Do you want anything? Is there anything else I can, uh, do?”

Swallowing thickly, Arthur took a moment to process the question. “...N-no.” he shook his head. Blinking and raising his dull green eyes, he tried to focus on something. “I need...I need a moment to think…” he murmured in a surprisingly coherent voice.

The blue he managed to catch in his vision was suddenly outlined with a little hurt, like an ocean suspended by a still moon. The imagined fluidity halted. “A...Alright.” Alfred agreed softly. “I’ll be inside if you...If you need anything.” he backed away, stepping with silent movements inside the room that had once been a place of comfort for both of them.

Once he was out of sight, Arthur adjusted himself to turn around. He didn’t intend to escape; it wasn’t like he could even if he wanted to. One dizzying gaze down was enough to know that he would not be flying any time soon, at least judging by how he got so much vertigo that he almost slid to his knees. Shutting his eyes tightly in the hopes that it would stop the sensation of spinning, Arthur gritted his teeth and leaned heavily against the stone, now at least on his front.

Weakly raising his head, Arthur attempted to look up at the bothered, blotchy sky. It was grey, as always, but something about it seemed like it was filled with contempt. As if it was possible for the sky to be contemptuous. Managing to get back to a stand, Arthur tried to relax. To his physical and mental relief, he was healed in various places. However, there were parts of him that still hurt, either where Alfred was too shy to venture or where his healing just wasn’t enough. Arthur didn’t care; to his knowledge, he was fine.

Just scared.

Yes, very scared. It took him a moment to put all of that together, but his mind wasn’t useless quite yet. He could at least recognise that he was cold, lonely, and afraid. And hurt, of course. Some part of him wondered how hard the blood would be to wash off, and another part momentarily forgot he was an angel. There was still that mentality that existed- ‘How long can I go in my demon form? What can I do to blend in more? Who could be able to tell me apart from the rest?’ But all he had to do to remind himself was shiver; his wings would tremble far differently depending on what form he took.

All that occupied his mind for the time being was thoughts of the consequences of his failure. He’d accepted death multiple times, but his being discovered as an angel must be the biggest and stupidest thing he’d done in Hell. Arthur wondered when Alfred would get around to killing him, or perhaps give him to the group to tear apart. But...upon his death, he wouldn’t be there to stop the Demonocrats and the Angelicans from escalating their war, he wouldn’t be there to at least do something about the toll it would take. He wouldn’t be there to apologise for all his wrongs, or to try and stop the ultimate destruction of all he’d ever known. If his death resulted in all of that, he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around why he would want death. Perhaps to be free of the weight he carried?

Arthur didn’t even realise how cold it was until he reached up with a shaky hand to his face. His fingers were numb. Holding out his hand in front of him, and not daring to glance below, the angel realised his movements were stiff and limited. He couldn’t form a fist, nor stretch out his fingers all the way. 

He began to feel a little bit more, and almost every single muscle tensed; his shoulders, his jaw, and with that, his legs almost gave out in the process. The cold coursed through him like he wasn’t even there. It blew right through him, chilling his very bones. This was no ordinary wind, no usual cold. At least, not to Arthur, who stood in nothing but his tunic and shattered will.

After a brief moment spent leaning against the railing with his face aimed towards the sky, Arthur became aware of Alfred’s presence. The cold may have washed over his senses, but it hadn’t quelled them.

The demon tentatively approached, and Arthur’s eyes slowly slid open again. Peering at him from the corner of his eye, Arthur watched Alfred inch just a little closer and rest his arms on the railing, looking at the angel. With no idea how much time had passed, Arthur could only assume that either Alfred was impatient, or he simply hadn’t a single clue of how long it’d been.

They remained in silence for a moment, but it was obvious the demon wanted a conversation. He let out a sigh, seeming to be searching for words. Arthur wavered a bit, his breath catching and his arms shaking before readjusting. The demon seemed like he could sit there forever, but he had some sort of motive for coming back out to talk to Arthur. Maybe it was to convince him to do something, or kill him now. Arthur couldn’t help the sudden shudder at that.

“...What’re you thinking about?” Alfred asked him eventually, his voice quiet. The intent was unidentifiable, but it seemed harmless enough.

It was a little bit before Arthur could answer, for he could not find the words for his worries. “...The future.” he finally mumbled, deciding to be honest. He closed his eyes so he could look down, hoping the dizziness wouldn’t come back. Opening his mouth again, Arthur meant to add ‘or lack thereof’ until he sensed Alfred moving closer.

Nervously looking up, Arthur opened his eyes, only to face Alfred startlingly close. He tensed up again, even more so when Alfred hopeful expression fell, but made no move to back away just yet. 

With wide eyes, he watched as Alfred slowly raised his gloved hand, his blue eyes catching onto the lowered, white, feathery wings. “Um…” the demon hesitated upon seeing Arthur’s obvious skittishness. “Can I…?”

Looking from Alfred’s face to his wings, Arthur realised he wanted to touch them. Immediately, he wanted to shake his head, but through the confusion and emotional turmoil from everything that had happened, he somehow reluctantly nodded. By instinct, he wanted to trust Alfred; he wanted so badly to believe their friendship over all this time wasn’t for nothing. Though, he was certain he was just kidding himself if he dared to hope Alfred would have any mercy on him. The only reason he decided to let the demon do it was because he figured he would die anyway.

Alfred’s hand slowly reached forward until his fingers delicately brushed against the feathers along the uppermost edge of Arthur’s left wing. He seemed to think of something when he did that, and immediately retracted his hand. With wide eyes, Arthur watched as Alfred took off his glove, revealing a strong, pale hand. Reaching forward again, this time with his bare hand, Alfred gently touched the wing with his fingertips. 

Arthur supposed he did that so he could actually feel. Closing his eyes and lowering his head a little, Arthur was silent as he felt Alfred continue to touch his wing, stroking slowly along the edge. It was almost like he was exploring, and the demon dared to go further and further, until his hand traveled to the inner part of the wing. His fingers curled gingerly into the fluffy plumage, and just then, Arthur pulled in a small gasp.

Glancing at his face, Alfred stopped for a moment and pulled back his arm. “...Does that...Hurt?” he asked, his voice dropping like he was nervous he’d done something wrong.

It was odd that Alfred would ask such a thing. Frowning, Arthur shook his head and kept his eyes closed, but not as tightly as before. “N-no.”

“Then why did you…?” Alfred trailed off, thinking. When he felt his hand pull away, Arthur peeked up at the demon with one eye, just to see him pull of his other glove and fold the pair to stick it inside one of his uniform pockets. Alfred offered a small smile when Arthur opened both eyes to look at him. “I hope you like to have your wings petted.” he teasingly warned the angel, before he reached with both of his hands to Arthur’s wings.

At first, Arthur stiffened in fear, not prepared for death by wing mutilation. That was, until Alfred’s fingers simultaneously found the soft underside of both wings. Eyes sliding closed again, Arthur’s head lolled forward as if he was caught in a dazed trance due to the sudden tingling sensation in both feathery limbs. His mind began to get cloudy from Alfred’s continuous scratching, and the only thing he could comprehend was how...nice it felt. He didn’t even notice that he was beginning to tilt forward.

The petting didn’t stop, even when Arthur’s wings began to relax subconsciously. “...Arthur? You okay?” Alfred asked, and Arthur’s glazed green eyes flitted upward aimlessly. The angel was becoming drowsy, and only just was becoming aware that he wasn’t controlling his balance. Before he could even cry out in surprise, he stopped falling. “Whoah! Hey, hey, hey, I got you.” the hands disappeared from inside his wings, catching him underneath his arms. 

Arthur blinked slowly, his eyelids refusing to stay open. He realised he was leaning full-on into Alfred, who had moved his arms around Arthur’s neck and back to support him. At that point, Arthur couldn’t even bring himself to be afraid; he was simply too exhausted. If he could stand straight, or even see straight for that matter, he would have noticed that Alfred looked more scared than he did. 

The demon let out a shaky sigh. “Hey, Artie, it’s alright. I got you.” he said again, pulling Arthur closer. “You okay? I bet you’re really tired. Talk to me, buddy.”

“N-nngh…” Arthur shifted a little bit, but Alfred patted his back to keep him still. “Why...Wh-why are you not t-trying to...Kill me...?” he mumbled into Alfred’s shoulder.

The hand moving over him froze. Arthur’s breath caught then, not sure what he’d done.

“...Arthur…” Alfred began quietly, his fingers seeming to remember how to move again. “I...I never wanted to hurt you, much less kill you. I think you’re a little too freaked out right now to trust or believe me, so all I can do is tell you.” he said sadly, gently rubbing Arthur’s back. 

For a moment, the angel was silent. “...Artie? Hey, talk to me, tell me about something.” Alfred nudged the side of Arthur’s head with his face, and then began talking just to distract the angel. “You being an angel explains a few things, ya know. What’s that thing you told us about? The really cool sounding thing that Ludwig told us about, we even saw it on Earth! It was singing, right? Well, you’re an angel, can you sing for me?”

There was a beat of silence before Arthur became responsive again, having almost dozed off on Alfred’s shoulder. “Why do you...Why do you want me to sing for you…?” he asked softly.

Alfred shrugged, and readjusted his hold on the beaten angel. He began rocking back and forth slowly like before, trying to soothe Arthur somehow. It had some effect eventually; Arthur finally conceded and rested his head against Alfred, and didn’t resist when the demon reached down to pull the angel’s arms around his neck. 

Continuing to fight the urge to sleep, Arthur breathed in deeply, and let it out slowly. For the small time that passed, he was able to forget just how cold he was, or maybe it was just his body could only focus on one or two things at a time. Right now, it was Alfred’s hand slowly stroking up and down his back through his tunic, occasionally brushing with his wings. 

He felt so tired, so exhausted. His vision blurred out occasionally, and he couldn’t quite move of his own accord. The rocking, he noticed, was steady and constant, and that distracted him for awhile. Tunes began to form in his head from an old habit, one he’d thought he’d left behind since he left Heaven. A short while seemed to pass, and Alfred seemed to think Arthur had already fallen asleep. At least, until Arthur began humming.

Alfred looked down in surprise at the soft notes, not expecting the voice. He didn’t know any better, but Arthur knew he wouldn’t sound perfect because he had not sung in such a long time. Still, he maintained a semi-steady tone and hummed in time with their swaying.

The demon even seemed to pick up on that, and rocked them a little more enthusiastically from it, smiling down at Arthur. He seemed utterly fascinated, despite the fact that it really wasn’t anything special. Just a simple, almost sad song that had a perceivable beat.

“Don’t....Kid yourself…” Arthur murmured after a while of just organising the tune. “And don’t...Fool yourself...This love’s too good to last, and I’m too old to dream…” he lifted his head just a little so he could sing the words carefully, sounding weary but surprisingly clear.

He sensed Alfred looking down at him in shock, but he didn’t look up. “Don’t...Grow up too fast, and don’t...Embrace the past...This life’s too good to last, and I’m too young to care…” his voice gained a little bit of strength, at least it was loud enough to hold a tone that almost echoed.

The demon and the angel moved a little more languidly with one another, Arthur even relaxing as much as he could in the cold while Alfred listened. Together, they swayed almost like they were dancing, and Arthur continued to sing a slightly more bravely. It wasn’t quite reconciliation; how could it be? But it was a step towards the sun forgiving the clouds. The light and the dark embraced like before in a waltz of sorts, swinging gently in three to the angel’s sombre song in the otherwise quiet place, stone-cold and cloudy with silence.

“Don’t...Kid yourself, and don’t....Fool yourself...This life could be the last....And we’re too young to see....” Arthur looked a little dazed and dreamy, finishing with one last hum. He wasn’t too observant in that moment, but he could see all the emotions playing across Alfred’s face with a glance up at him.

The demon was absolutely dumbfounded, standing speechless for a little while. “Th-that was…” he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief. “That was beautiful, Arthur, I- Arthur?”

Arthur blinked slowly. “Mm?”

He could see a smile from the demon, somehow, through his vague sight. “Sorry, you just don’t look too focused right now.” he leaned his head down a little bit, adjusting his arms around Arthur’s lower back. They kept swaying, continuing to rock to and fro. “I-I mean...Obviously, you’re not. That’s my fault. Yea...Um.” he glanced away, looking nervous. “I’m just...I’m really sorry. I’ll say it every day, every time I see you. What I’ve done to you, it’s...It’s unforgivable. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, actually, but Hell, am I glad you’re alive.”

Pulling Arthur a little closer until he bumped into him, Alfred shifted his arms again in an embrace. He rested his chin on Arthur’s shoulder, his horns accidentally touching Arthur’s halo. “I’m confused, Artie, and I’ll ask you to explain some stuff later. But right now, you’re almost completely senseless and tired, and...You really need rest. Also, are you- Are you cold?” he pulled back and held him out at arm’s length, just to look at Arthur’s small, shaking figure. “I don’t know much about angels, but you never seemed too comfortable in this kinda weather. Even when I thought you were just a demon.”

Arthur winced at the way Alfred had said that, and looked down at the ground. He noticed it was beginning to get wet; was it raining? Sure enough, after a moment, the drizzle was very evident to Arthur’s exposed form. He stiffened and shivered, flinching occasionally when the water droplets hit his face. His fingers and toes stung, and he could see his breath with how the temperature dropped.

The demon still looked at him, shaking his head. He opened his mouth a couple times, as if wanting to say something, but not quite able to decide what. Finally, he shrugged off his leather jacket he always wore. “Here.” he muttered, slowly approaching him when Arthur’s face paled a little more. “Uh…” he glanced to and from his jacket and Arthur’s wings. “This might not...Work…” he laughed nervously when he realised the slits in the back of the jacket were definitely not big enough for Arthur’s wings. “Wear it backwards, it’ll still keep you warmer.” he said, and turned the jacket around so he could fit Arthur’s arms through the sleeves. 

The fluffy collar of it was pulled up to Arthur’s chin, and the angel felt a little bit warmer already. He noticed it smelled only of Alfred when he took in a deep breath. Looking up in shock at Alfred while clutching the body-warmed jacket around him, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. The sleeves fell over Arthur’s knuckles, as it was a bit big on him. 

Alfred looked strange in just his uniform, and it was then Arthur realised he’d just never seen the demon without his jacket.

Licking his lips, Alfred turned so he faced the inside of the building. “Hey, you can come in if you want. You really need sleep, and there’s no way in Hell I’m letting you sleep out here.” Carefully, Alfred pulled an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, and the angel self-consciously turned his head down so his numb, red nose was pressed in the warmth of the jacket collar. He stumbled a little when Alfred began leading him inside, but he guessed that was why there was an arm guiding him. 

“N-no, I am- I will be-...” Arthur tried to deny the offer, getting a little more nervous by the closer contact.

“Artie, you’ll be safer inside. I know you’re scared, but…” Alfred let out a sigh, and stopped, turning Arthur to face him and looking worried when Arthur tried to hide his face in the jacket. “I know there’s no way you can believe me, but I won’t hurt you anymore. If you’re out here, other demons might find you o-or something horrible... And I couldn’t stand to let that happen. Plus it’s also freezing already, it might start snowing. And you really don’t like the cold, so...Please, come in with me?” Alfred tilted his head with a desperate look.

Assuming he didn’t really have a choice, Arthur pulled in a deep, chilled breath, and reluctantly nodded. He wouldn’t be able to stand for much longer anyways.

He felt like he couldn’t move. His nose had gone numb, he couldn’t feel his hands anymore, his wings were losing feeling...Alfred almost had to support him completely. Luckily, the demon quickly recognised Arthur’s exhaustion and decided to help him inside by lifting him up. The angel would have been startled by the disappearance of the floor, but his mind simply could not comprehend all the feelings at once. His head tilted to the side, bumping into Alfred’s shoulder.

With one arm below and in between his wings and one underneath Arthur’s knees, Alfred carried him inside, and the sudden warmth washed over the angel’s dwindling senses.

“I can...Sleep on the- on the floor…-” Arthur started to mumble.

“Shh, no, sir.” Alfred interrupted, heading towards the bed. “No floor, no couch. You are going to be as comfortable as you possibly can on the bed, and I won’t have it any other way.”

Too tired to argue, Arthur let out a small noise of acknowledgement before, for the most part, he started to fade out.

He was set gently upon the bed. The bed that he and Alfred had slept on together for the past several weeks, now deemed foreign and frightening to Arthur’s cloudy eyes. The goal suddenly became to get him as warm as possible. He could feel the pillows being nudged around him, and more blankets that came out of seemingly nowhere were pulled over his limp form. His wings did not fold like a demon’s, so his primary feathers hung over the edge of either side of the bed, at least until Alfred gingerly lifted them into a semi-folded position. 

Alfred looked like he wanted to crawl in the makeshift nest of pillows and blankets with Arthur, but the angel’s eyes were unintentionally wide and afraid, so he didn’t. He wasn’t yet forgiven enough to sleep in the same bed. At least, while Arthur was aware. Reaching down with a sad face, Alfred pulled his jacket up to Arthur’s nose so he was certain to be cozy, and then turned around to head somewhere unknown. Just as Arthur’s eyelids slid closed, not to open again for awhile.

O~o~O

Arthur felt like he was slipping in and out of consciousness, when really he was becoming more and less aware of dreams, flowing through them like sand from an open palm. He could feel them, but only in his head; the rest of his body felt still while his mind waded through the molasses that made up his sleeping thoughts. While everything else was calm, his head churned and ached like a swelling sea.

Obviously, he felt like some of them were real. Some of the nightmarish events he witnessed felt very authentic and true, and Arthur was terrified of the tangible properties he could have sworn were anything other than a dream. Others, he could very easily pick out as false, because either they were simply too ridiculous to be factual or too beyond radical to be believable. He seemed to switch very smoothly with and without these separate images. For a while, it would seem quite logical; naturally everyone switched between stories, right? It was a recurring realisation that, no, in fact, no one did.

Unless of course you were the grand creator of it all, which was a thought that ran through Arthur’s centre of attention several times. What say they, who had perhaps planned all of this? What say they who have the musician’s long fingers to construct symphonies from the imagination, the artist’s delicate hands to paint illusions on paper, and then the...the author’s sore tendons to bend hearts and to conscript minds? The foundations of all the followers came from specialists of the arts, twisting them into songs of war, canvases of destruction, and stories of death.

Camael’s face flashed briefly before him, and Arthur could feel his entire being freeze, not sure what to do. He felt like he released a noise of some kind, but couldn’t recall it and dismissed it as the turning began, flipping his mind and going another way.

He would go from nearly jerking away from faceless demons who he could somehow tell all had Rage, to rolling gently in the philosophical, wave-like thoughts.

It was a very long time before he washed up on shore.

His body finally stirred, and he let out a quiet moan. Sensations were coming back to him slowly, like the feeling of his head being stuffed with cotton and the tingling stroking upon his back. Discovering he could breathe and was actually a sentient, physical form rather than a spirit of conscious floating around the universe, he opened his eyes.

The first thing that he saw was the wall across the room, just before the opening to the balcony. Shifting his head a little, Arthur discovered he was laying on his stomach, and his head and neck ached with some sort of internal pressure.

His wings slid upward as he moved, and the tingling he could feel along his spine stopped, suddenly turning into gentle patting. His sore arms started to try and lift himself. “Nn-nngh…”

“Hey, Artie…” a soft voice stopped him, and he assumed the owner of that voice was also the cause of the feeling on his back. “Are you...Are you awake now?”

“Mmmn…” Arthur replied vaguely, lifting his head just enough to turn it to face the other way, and wincing in pain when he laid back down. “I do not...Know…” he murmured, blinking and eventually making out the form of Alfred perched on the edge of the bed before him.

The stroking began again, and Arthur let out a pleasant sigh. It felt so nice. He could finally identify that Alfred’s hand had reached underneath his tunic to run his fingers along the angel’s bare back. His eyes narrowed sleepily, and he saw Alfred smile. “That feel good?” the demon asked, letting out a small laugh when Arthur’s eyes slid closed. “Wait- Are you-? Are you smiling?”

Arthur’s eyes fluttered open again. “Am I?” he asked in a confused voice, straining his eyes to look up at Alfred.

With another thrilled laugh, Alfred turned around and almost collapsed on top of Arthur, wrapping his arms around the angel’s torso to turn him around and hug him. Startled, Arthur didn’t know what else to do but hug the demon back. He didn’t even notice he’d chuckled weakly in response.

After a moment of grinning and nuzzling Arthur in various places, Alfred froze. “Wh-oh, uh...S-sorry...You’ve been sleeping for...I don’t even know how long. I’ve slept three different times and you didn’t wake up at all, I’m just…” the demon rambled and backed off a little, looking nervous. “It’s really nice to see you smile.” he offered softly.

Upon having been released and thumping gently onto the bed, now on his back, Arthur watched Alfred for a moment, unsure of what to say. For whatever reason, his habits of acting around Alfred before had resurfaced, replacing the trembling, pathetic angel he had been. The fear still knotted up in the pit of his stomach, but, with no desire to know why it was, Arthur felt quite calm now for the most part.

Smiling shyly up at Alfred for a small moment, Arthur looked off bashfully to the side. “Th-thank you.”

Alfred looked absolutely delighted in numerous ways, and it was very easy to see the multiple different reactions he had, conflicted on how excited he was, exactly. He failed to suppress an oddly high pitched noise as he dove back down to hug Arthur again, laughing and almost wagging his tail. Ignoring any fear, probably out of fatigue, Arthur closed his eyes and embraced the demon back, burrowing his nose back in the fluffy collar of the jacket. He realised then he’d been breathing in Alfred’s scent all the time he’d been sleeping, and it had become...Comforting.

“I’m so- I’m so happy! So glad…” Alfred didn’t sound like he was able to express how he was feeling. Pulling back, he looked over Arthur’s figure before returning to press his chin in Arthur’s shoulder. “I was so worried but you’re okay...You’re okay…”

Arthur was beyond confused, but pleasantly surprised as well; he hadn’t expected such a reaction, especially after the Rage...Doing his best to ignore the feeling of dread, Arthur tried to sit up a little, and immediately received help from Alfred. The aching in his head became less painful then.

Looking up with bright green eyes, definitely more alive than when they were last open, Arthur sat himself up properly while watching Alfred. “I think I am...Okay.” he said thoughtfully. “I just do not...Understand why you are not angry.”

“Why would I be angry?” Alfred asked, tilting his head. Sitting comfortably in front of Arthur, he curled his tail around as if searching for Arthur’s, though now he knew the angel didn’t actually have one.

Arthur glanced down at his hands. “I lied to you. All this time you have been my friend, and I lied to you. Surely that must make you feel upset?” he mumbled quietly.

The flicking tail suddenly stopped, and the pointed arrow-like end of it reached to tilt Arthur’s chin up so he looked at the demon. “You’re right, I am your friend. And if you know me well enough, I’m not the kind of demon to just take things the wrong way. Yes, the Rage did...React first, but if it weren’t for that, I’d be totally easy going! To be honest, I really don’t mind that you’re an angel at all! It just...All happened wrong.” Alfred told him seriously, looking down, but then back up at the angel. 

It shocked Arthur a little to hear it that way, and his expression contorted with pity. He was well aware that Rage was not something Alfred could always help, because it was a defect. He had made a good point; without Rage, Alfred was always a happy demon, and unusually open-minded. It was very likely that he’d be extremely easy going if Rage wasn’t a factor at all, and Arthur thought of what his reaction would be upon discovering Arthur was an angel in that case. Smiling a little, he guessed it’d be something like “Dude...It was you? All along?! Sweet!”

Nodding slowly, Arthur looked up a little more willingly. “Well...Surely you have questions...It is impossible for you to be so indifferent about it.”

“I mean, duh, I have questions!” Alfred laughed, making a silly face that even made Arthur let out a small giggle. “But just some simple stuff first. Like, is your name actually Arthur?”

Biting his lip to stop himself from laughing anymore, Arthur nodded. “Yes.”

“Oh, great! Uhh, how about…” he tilted his head, to a ridiculous angle, scrutinising Arthur’s face and trying to make him laugh more. “Why are you so colourful?”

“Excuse me?” Arthur was confused by the question, and struggled to hide a growing smile.

For no apparent reason, Alfred leaned forward and crawled over Arthur, pinching his cheek and poking his eyebrows, giggling the entire time. While Arthur frantically held back similar laughter, he grinned and squished the angel’s face. “Your skin is all peachy and pink! And warm! Why are you like a mix of all the oranges and the pinks and the reds?”

“I-I do not know! All angels have full colour in their skin!” Arthur explained, trying desperately not to laugh. “Wh-what are you doing?”

Alfred finally calmed down and let go of Arthur, sitting back where he was before and still giggling to himself. “Pfft, sorry,” he laughed, looking better when Arthur couldn’t stop a dumb smile. “Had to do an inspection,” he teased.

“You are impossible,” Arthur growled back in the same joking tone, shaking his head and sitting up, still unable to stop smiling. “What other questions do you have?”

“Hmm…” Alfred thought for a moment. “Just one, before I ask about, you know, the big stuff.” leaning forward, his expression suddenly became dead serious, and Arthur’s eyes widened a little. Then, after a moment of waiting and expecting something frightening, Alfred solemnly whispered, “How are your wings so soft?”

For a minute, all Arthur was able to do was look at Alfred in awe. Soon after, he began chuckling quietly and turned away in embarrassment. “I-I do not know that.” he answered honestly, covering his mouth and shyly shifting his wings to hide his face.

Alfred looked surprised by Arthur’s reaction, and brushed his wings to the side so he could lean in and hug the angel. “You can laugh, you know, it’s okay! It’s actually kind of adorable.” embracing Arthur comfortably, Alfred sighed happily. They enjoyed a small moment of silence before it had to be broken again. “You can tell me whenever you want. Why are you down here?”

“I can tell you now.” Arthur replied, leaning calmly against Alfred and adjusting the jacket so his face was pressed into it. Hugging the demon back, Arthur thought long and hard of where to begin, somehow no longer afraid. He began the complicated explanation carefully, prepared to sit with the demon for a long time. 

That time was passed with Arthur's story, speaking of his troubles and conflicts. Alfred occasionally nuzzled his face, and even kissed his cheek sometimes while he listened. “I came to Hell because I was a spy sent by the Angelicans, my mission being to find peace. At least, that was what I thought…”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my stars XD I'm finally done with the Blackout!! This concludes the first arc of the story, bringing an end to Arthur's initial struggle to hide his real identity. Well, at least to one person. Now we are moving into a new part of the story! And, as you might notice soon, with the new arc comes a new cover image! One I actually got permission to use this time XD 
> 
> Blackout by Muse is one of my favourites, honestly, it's just such a gorgeous song. I read about it the other day, and it's about facing the end and looking back on the good parts of it. One of the reasons I liked it's multiple meanings in Messenger is because Arthur, during the time he's singing for Alfred, actually thinks he is facing death. Or at least, the tired, injured part of his fearful mind does. Towards the end of the chapter, he gets a little bit more into character; the brave Paranomia we all know and love CX Maybe a bit too happy, but that's just because he's coming off of so much shock, ya know? Alfred's eager to make him see that everything's gonna be okay now.
> 
> There's so many moments I like in this chapter, like when Alfred gets a little bit curious about angel anatomy and pets Arthur's wings? Also, of course, the waltz itself. It wasn't really a waltz, but metaphorically for them, it really was ^^
> 
> Arthur might be getting too comfortable in Alfred's jacket here...XD
> 
> Alright, so!
> 
> Disclaimer** I do not own Muse, Linkin Park, Biblical stuffs, any lyrics, etc! 
> 
> The new cover image was drawn by Makoyana on Tumblr! I met her because I saw her pieces she drew for Muse Drones, and she does this thing where she draws a picture for each song! She has several sets of multiple Muse albums, and they all look amazing! I don't think I'm allowed to post links here, but I'm sure she's easy to find :D This one in particular is for the song called Revolt!
> 
> Anyways, so I thought I would update sooner, but I didn't, so this was a prolonged wait XD I'm not sure at all when the next chapter will come, because I have to organise my plans and plot in between school and stuff. Christmas Break is coming soon, so that's good!
> 
> Also, Muse is coming and I'm going to see them in two days!!! I'm sooo excited to see them live again, I saw them once but I was, like, ten XD And who knows, just seeing them might add a whole new twist to Messenger later on!
> 
> Ohh yea so on Tumblr there's this blog called reviewing-fanfictions, and I kinda entered Messenger in one of their contests, but I'm not sure how this will do and stuff. Just in case the contest goes on, this is a shoutout to Izzy! :D
> 
> Until next time, the Blackout is officially over! Let there be light!
> 
> ~Madz


	19. Peace on Earth

O~o~O

'Hear it every Christmas time, but hope and history won't rhyme, so what's it worth? This Peace on Earth...'

The night was cool and fresh both to the feel and to the taste; Earth was quite lovely during the winter after all. An odd combination of warm autumn colours and blinding white made up the season in most parts of the world, and everywhere people rejoiced. 

Christmas was a holiday the angels adored, and not something they ever took lightly. By now, Arthur imagined, the gorgeous palaces and cathedrals in Heaven were adorned with shiny ribbons and tinsel. Messengers were rushing around, doing their jobs with bright spirits both in Heaven and on Earth, for they had contributed much to the joy humans felt. Soon they would be done, of course, and night would fall on the planet. It was tradition that the time of year became extremely festive and grand, so of course it was a shock to Arthur when Alfred informed him demons had no such celebrations.

“...You sure it’s okay if I come along?” Alfred asked him shyly, looking meek and guilty of a crime while he flew beside Arthur, half leading the way to the portal.

Arthur glanced to Alfred with a smile; he’d been smiling a lot recently, as it was his favourite time of year. He nodded to the demon warmly. “Of course it is. It is not like you would be doing anything wrong, in fact it is quite the opposite. Trust me, this will be fun. I will show you what I used to do in Heaven.”

“Oh, really?” Alfred’s bright blue eyes flashed and his expression lit up. “I thought angels didn’t go to Earth that often!”

“Well…” Arthur thought for a moment, brushing a hand through his red hair and ducking under a pipe before coming up to even with Alfred again. “Christmas is an important day. To us, at least. I would like to make it important to you, too. It is a time to be happy for no other reason than to just be happy, or in some cases, to celebrate faith. Holidays like this have all sorts of variations, and it is very fascinating. I should think you would like to help me do what used to be my job.”

Alfred grinned back at him, staying silent as they rounded the last corner together. Stopping just underneath the portal, Alfred faced Arthur with an expression of reverence. “You know, you’re a really good person, ya know?”

Frowning and tilting his head, Arthur began to perform the switching spell before they went through. “In what way?” he asked in mid-transformation.

“In...All ways?” Alfred shrugged, not even remotely surprised by the switch in forms. “You get booted outta Heaven, figure that out, decide to disassociate from the Demonocracy, and yet you still decide to do your ‘duty’. That’s pretty good. Nationless, yet determined to make everyone happy.”

“I am not nationless,” Arthur smirked and gestured for Alfred to follow him up. “I am my own nation.”

The two fell silent as they ascended, and once through, they were filled with the same sense of awe as when they first came together. Only, it was even greater; the world was dark above yet alight and shining below. It was absolutely gorgeous to look down the city streets of some unknown country and practically feel the happiness, the joy. 

It was a bit cold, as they were in the sky just below the clouds where snow was falling. Before Arthur could even say anything, Alfred had struggled out of his jacket(it was quite hard to take it off while flying) and put it on Arthur backwards. He even flicked his halo when Arthur gave him an appreciative smile, and took one of Arthur’s cold, pale hands. “Where to first, Captain?” he asked.

Looking down at the Earth, Arthur appeared to survey the planet like there were signals saying where he should go. His halo and his other hand glowed briefly, a sort of inherent searching magic in him. “We will go to a place called Mexico first.” he answered eventually. “You will see what we do there.”

Summoning a magic compass and looking up at the few stars there were in the sky, Arthur found and indicated the direction they were going, and then they were off.

They flew several miles, the only evidence of the Earth beneath them being the yellow lights and other colours in the bigger towns. In some places they could even hear crowds, despite being so high in the sky. Most of the cities were quiet, homes silent and awaiting the Messenger of Christmas.

Finally, they were out in the countryside of Mexico, flying over a massive field of wheat. The only light the angel and the demon could follow was a dull porchlight from a house standing far from them, so they descended towards it. Arthur coaxed Alfred into flying low enough so they could brush their hands along the tips of the tall field.

Arthur came to a graceful landing, whereas Alfred stumbled a little. Panting, the demon jogged after Arthur, looking a little clueless. “Are we going inside? They’re all asleep, right? You’re not Santa, are you?” he asked loudly, clumsily crushing stalks of wheat while Arthur strode through it without stepping on a single plant.

“Shh,” Arthur hushed him with a smile. “Just follow me.”

The field of wheat ended, and the open area was just grass until it got to the house. Slowly walking up the steps, Arthur adjusted his tunic and pulled Alfred’s jacket further around himself before he got to the door. He brought a finger to his lips, gesturing for Alfred to stay quiet, and then silently opened the door and slipped inside. 

Like all the songs say, the house was silent. The only sound was the delicate tapping of Arthur’s sandals and the slightly heavier fall of Alfred’s boots on the wood. Muffled a little on carpet, Arthur looked around the home with an unclear expression, not sure if he was sad or happy. It was decorated a little bit for Christmas, and smelt heavily of time and age. The collection of knick-knacks around the shelves and tables were a vague indication that the person who lived here was quite old. 

There was a dog laying in the corner of the room, a lanky thing with big ears and smooth brown and white fur. It appeared to see them, and Arthur watched the dog with what appeared to be wonder. "Jesus..." he whispered.

Images of children and family hung along the walls of the hall Arthur led Alfred down, and the angel seemed to be searching for something. Or someone.

He came across a door and prodded it open very gently, revealing a bedroom. An occupied one, judging by the soft snoring sounds from the large bed. It was piled upon by several knitted blankets with colours Arthur could only assume to have significance to the culture here.

Arthur walked slowly inside, and Alfred followed after hesitating in the doorway.

“She is...A mother.” Arthur determined in a whisper, already well inside and beside the bed. He sensed Alfred shyly fiddling around with something imaginary behind him out of shyness, and he gingerly pulled back the covers. Immediately, he glowed with a sort of golden light while he appeared to read the worn face sleeping. “She will be spending tomorrow alone; it is quite sad, really, her children have all moved out and are out of the country by now. She has received gifts in the mail but that is it. She is…” he paused for breath, and glanced at the empty space beside her, cold and lonely. “She is a widow as well.”

“Aww.” Alfred let out sadly, suddenly brave enough to come up beside Arthur, like a tentative animal shouldering up with an older figure. “Um...What can we do?”

“We can do what we can.” Arthur replied softly, and the magic gold light from him slowly faded until his skin was pale and white from the moon. He leaned down, careful not to lose his balance, and gently pressed his lips to the woman’s forehead.

After he had stood again, Alfred leaned up against Arthur to watch the woman like he was paying respects. “...I thought you said you didn’t know what a kiss was,” he couldn’t resist making the remark, and smiled a little bit.

Glancing at him with a small laugh, showing it was alright to be happy, Arthur shook his head. “Angels do not call it a kiss.”

“Well, what do you call it, then?” Alfred teased the angel by nuzzling his cheek, making Arthur let out a slightly more audible giggle. 

“A blessing.” the angel answered simply.

O~o~O

The night proved to be exhausting, for it was quite a feat to fly all over Earth seeking out the most troubled souls. They had traversed oceans, lands, and skies all over, and had been met with the same bittersweetness at every location. Eventually, however beautiful and thrilling and fulfilling it was, it had to end once Alfred noticed how weary Arthur was. “You need a Hell of a lot more sleep than I do,” he reminded the angel on their last landing. “We should start heading back.”

Arthur had resisted faintly, and insisted they fly to the city where the portal was, not yet leaving. The humans couldn’t see them, after all, so they landed to catch their breath strolled down the streets until they got to the largest attraction of them all; the city’s Christmas tree. 

It glowed in both of their eyes, appealing to the childlike wonder in them and of course making the angel and the demon inexplicably happy. It was very beautiful, to have all the colours reflected in their irises while they absorbed the sight. Blind to the humans and the humans blind in turn, the winged men stood side-by-side on the eve of a wonderful day.

“There are more of them. Aren’t there?” Alfred asked in a murmur after several minutes of staring at all the pretty lights. “More of the troubled souls we visited.”

It took a moment, but Arthur finally nodded. “Millions.” he said sadly. “Millions of people. The angels have already made a big dent in the lot of them, before we got here. But there is no way we can visit and bless every single one. It is simply not possible.” he looked down and clasped his hands, both of them and his chest glowing with the magic like before. His expression looked like he could feel every single human, every bit of their pain just then, and it hurt. He could feel so much, and his heart was heavy with the grief of those who suffered this day. 

Alfred turned himself and the angel so they were breast-to-breast once he noticed a slight wince, and let Arthur lean into him. “If you could…” he started to say, the rest of the question obvious as he slowly wrapped his arms around the shivering angel.

“You know I would.” Arthur answered automatically, and accepted the embrace gratefully. “...Thank you. For coming with me. And…” he fell quiet when the midnight bells rang. “Happy Christmas, Alfred.” Arthur let his feathery wings wrap around the both of them, shivering a little because of the light snow, especially because his tunic was short and thin.

“Of course, Artie.” Alfred grinned and held the angel tighter. “Merry Christmas to you too.” Without any warning, Alfred leaned back just a little, and then kissed Arthur’s bright red nose just as quickly. “Just a Christmas blessing,” he giggled.

“Mm.” Arthur agreed with a warm smile, his sadness dissipating like magic. “And a blessing for you,” he added, turning his head so he could kiss Alfred’s cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, guys!! So this isn't actually a 'chapter' per se, it's just a Christmas update because I've always wanted to do one XD So this kind of exists within and without the plot? If that makes sense? You guys must hate me because I used a U2 song XD 
> 
> Anyway, so this is not really anything major. Just a kind of event put on the side for character development that isn't very good, ahaha ^^' The next time I update, it will be a chapter! I just had a cool idea with this song :P
> 
> Peace on Earth is a song that makes my heart hurt tbh XD It's so sad! It's where I got the idea for the woman in Mexico, and of course Jesus's input :)
> 
> "Jesus could you take the time  
> To throw a drowning man a line  
> Peace on Earth...  
> Tell the ones who hear no sound  
> Whose sons are living in the ground  
> Peace on Earth...  
> No whos or whys  
> No-one cries, like a mother cries  
> For peace on Earth  
> She never got to say goodbye  
> To see the colour in his eyes  
> Now he's in the dirt  
> Peace on Earth..."
> 
> So tell me how y'all's holiday goes! Were you blessed by a Messenger this year? CX 
> 
> From Heaven and Hell and from Earth too, I wish you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!! <3 I love all of you and I hope you enjoy yourselves :D
> 
> Here's to 2016!
> 
> ~Madz (Whose username changed everywhere whoops sorry forgot to mention)...(Insert Santa hat)


	20. Exo-Politics

O~o~O

“...S...Sir? Are you…?”

The question trailed off uselessly, engulfed in the silence. The room was dark, no longer alight with dancing magic. One thing was evident, the still silhouette of the Seraph, cold and unreacting.

Peeking in, the little angel gulped. “A-are you alright?” he tried again, attempting to keep his voice steady.

“I am…” the dull room suddenly lit up dimly with the clear, calm voice, vague blue and green lights pulsing. They portrayed two figures, a demon and an angel, and the light cast an ominous shadow over the Seraph’s face. His expression was unclear, but his voice was low and purring, like he was pleased. “I am doing very well.”

O~o~O

The gentle pattering of rain outside was soothing, creating a rare tranquil feeling throughout Hell. It beat gently upon the stone and the streets, trinkling down from the dark skies and prodding the walls, dripping from the structures. Not enough to erode, but enough to be known.

It must have been calming, for it was the reason a tired demon and a sleepy angel lay next to each other on a bed, one swathed in blankets and the other simply trying to offer his body warmth. It was a rare sight. The angel was curled up, looking peaceful and ethereal with his formerly bloodied tunic now a shade of off-white, compared to his clean, bright wings. The demon lay on his side, his body not quite up against the angel’s; he’d overheat if he did that. Instead, he rested his head on his arm, and his free hand remained on top of one of the angel’s wings. He’d fallen asleep while petting it.

A lot had been explained when they were awake. In fact, most of the time had been spent sitting comfortably on the bed, the demon listening while the angel explained himself as fully as he could. By the time he had worn himself out talking, the demon couldn’t think of any more questions and they both wanted to sleep on it. So, after washing up separately, and eating actual sustainable food(which the angel regarded with childlike wonder), they soon found themselves returning to the bed to get some rest.

By that point, it was well known that the angel had to sleep a lot longer than the demon. It had been a disappointment, because the demon had become fond of spending every waking moment with the angel. But he would learn to amuse himself in the six hours he had to wait, most likely to simply watch the other sleep judging by the look in his eyes at the time. 

For then, at least, there was a while when both the light and the dark enjoyed a very deep, very long rest. A few hours longer than either of them were used to at that point, to say the least.

It must have been something very clear that had awoken the demon, as he was a light sleeper like all others of his kind. Perhaps it was a small growl of thunder despite the serenity of the storm? Or maybe he had just sensed the approaching presence.

Whatever the reason, the only thing Arthur processed was suddenly being shoved and tumbling off the bed gracelessly to the floor, with only a whisper-shout of “Get down!”

He landed hard, hitting his head and side on the ground. Biting his lip to keep from crying out in surprise, he dizzily raised his head to see the vague shadow on the floor of Alfred flying off the bed towards the balcony. Gritting his teeth and wincing, Arthur turned over on his stomach, initially in pain to face under the bed. Then, he noticed another pair of boots land, and he realised another demon had flown in.

“Basch!” he heard Alfred greet him nervously. “Hey, dude, uh...You need something?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he was afraid or not; surely after all of this Alfred wouldn’t suddenly decide to betray him? ‘No,’ he thought. ‘He just pushed me off to hide me.’ Regardless, he’d have to work on Alfred’s acting.

Noticing their shift, Arthur judged that Alfred had circled around the demon so Basch faced the side wall, not directly facing the bed. “Hello, Alfred.” Basch replied in an even voice, sounding skeptical. “I was just with the group...We’re becoming restless; neither you nor Paranomia have shown up for awhile and we don’t know what to do. I actually came here looking for Paranomia.”

It was obvious to Arthur when Alfred didn’t know what to say, and he rolled his eyes at the odd stuttering noise. He shifted on his back, inching a little ways under the bed just for a moment, quickly moving his hands.

“Ah- w-well, I-It’s really complicated, it-it’s like- Um...He’s, uh not…” Alfred began to babble aimlessly, not seeming able to form a coherent point. “Ar-Paranomia, he’s- he’s-”

“Right here.” Arthur answered, standing.

Managing to hold back a grin at the sheer horror in Alfred’s face, Arthur dusted his uniform off in a somewhat classy way and jumped, gliding over the bed to meet with Basch. “Sorry, I was busy writing something down. You said you were here to see me?” he asked, lying easily and feigning ignorance. He now appeared sharp, his green eyes focused and intense.

Basch looked glad to see him, even smiling a little. “Yes, the group has been confused and lost without you. Where have you been? No one was able to find you or Alfred. Then again, none of them thought to look here except me, but it still feels like you were being elusive. We’ve been searching for a long time, did something happen?” he seemed genuinely concerned.

Immediately, Arthur pretended to think, furrowing his brows and glancing at Alfred as if to confirm that no, in fact, nothing out of the ordinary happened. “Negative,” he answered, flicking his tail. “Alfred and I have just been taking some time to mellow out. We cannot do much yet, after all. We figured it would not hurt.” he flashed a grin to Alfred, and the demon smiled nervously back. “Is there anything that requires our immediate attention?”

“Ah, no…” Basch said, seeming to guess what Arthur was about to tell him, evident in how his eyebrows drew together and he frowned in disappointment. “We just...We thought you might know if there was anything we could do.”

Arthur crossed his arms. “I am afraid not. We are going to have to be smart about this, in fact, I am honestly dumbfounded that you lot still are with me. You have all put yourselves in danger for my sake, and I do not quite understand why.” he sighed, glancing around the room. “We are all very close to being fugitives. Are you certain you do not wish to just return to the Demonocracy?”

The shocked and aghast look Basch gave him startled Arthur. “Paranomia, we have all pledged our loyalty to you! We would not dream of turning our backs on you now.” he said in a hurried, insistent voice. “...Very well. If there’s nothing we can do yet, we will await your instruction. I’ll inform the others.” standing straight, Basch saluted Arthur. Upon getting the gesture returned, he turned and flew back out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Alfred let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Dude! Scared the Hell outta me…” he murmured, walking closer and twisting his tail with Arthur’s. “I think it’s gonna be a little while before I get used to you switching back and forth.” a small smile made its way on his face, while his eyes danced around Arthur’s face to absorb the change, the red hair, the horns and all.

“Mm.” Arthur hummed in acknowledgement, and seemed to remember something. He frowned, and cautiously reached into his jacket, pulling out the journal from his inside pocket. He looked at it for a moment, having forgotten about it. “And a good morning to you too.” he smiled wryly, handing the small book to Alfred.

Alfred accepted the book skeptically, and then laughed nervously. “Oh, haha, yea, sorry about that.” he brought his hand up to rub Arthur’s head, slower when the angel flinched a little. “I didn’t mean to be so rough, but I got kinda panicked.”

The smile became a little more genuine. “No, no, you saved my life. Thank you.” Arthur calmed down a little, working on making himself less fidgety around the demon. Leaning into the hand, he breathed out slowly and closed his eyes so Alfred knew it was okay to move closer. In a smooth instant, Alfred had pulled Arthur into an apologetic embrace, firmly wrapping his arms around Arthur. While it unnerved Arthur for a moment, he quickly relaxed and tilted his head to rest in the demon’s shoulder.

For a moment, the two were silent, simply enjoying one another’s company. But that didn’t last very long, because Alfred soon began giggling into Arthur’s shoulder.

“What? What are you laughing at?” Arthur leaned back, looking curiously at Alfred.

“N-nothing.” Alfred said quickly, but continued giggling. “S-sorry, I don’t really...I dunno, dude. It’s just funny! I got so w-worried when I heard someone coming th-that I shoved you off th-the bed!” at that point, he’d dissolved into laughter so he couldn’t explain anymore.

Despite the fact he didn’t exactly find the humour in it, Arthur found himself smiling. “Hnn.” he made a small noise of agreement, and took a step back over to the bed, trying to get Alfred to sit on it. “You are silly.” he smiled, glancing towards the window to make sure no one was around. Then, with a quick gesture of his hands and a luminescent glow of light, Arthur switched back into his angel form.

That abruptly caused the laughing to stop, and Arthur lowered his head sheepishly when Alfred instead looked at the angel with wonder in his eyes, like he was taking in a work of art. After the demon had sat down, Arthur joined him, grabbing the bomber jacket that had been lain on the bed in his place to put it on again. “Why is it always so bloody cold…” he muttered.

Alfred looked alarmed for a moment, and whipped his head around to look out at the balcony. “Blood? Where?” It took a moment, but he did eventually recognise it as a phrase. “Oh. Nevermind.” The sudden comprehension was amusing to Arthur. “So...You still gonna tell me about you and stuff? I mean, I don’t think there’ll ever be a point where I know everything, but still.”

“I suppose…” Arthur sighed, absentmindedly reaching up to rub his throat, and then to smooth his hair back. “What else would you like to know?” He closed his eyes briefly before turning his head, peering at Alfred once his eyes had focused.

Nodding, Alfred shifted up, and crawled a little closer to Arthur, carefully pressing up near him. Once he’d situated his arms around Arthur’s waist and leaned on him comfortably, Alfred looked up with smiling eyes. “How come angels don’t have uniforms?” he asked innocently.

Looking down with a relaxed expression, eased by the demon’s gentleness, Arthur’s eyebrows creased for a moment. “Does this not appear to be a uniform to you?” he asked, nodding to his tunic.

“Hmm, no...” Arthur shifted, not really uncomfortably but with an odd feeling, when Alfred’s blue eyes trailed from Arthur’s face down his neck, across his shoulder blades, his arms, and back up to the tip of his clavicle, and down to where the tunic rippled along his somewhat-concealed chest. “It isn’t...Practical…” he murmured thoughtfully. “A little...Revealing.”

That made Arthur let out an amused chuckle. “Practical? It is very practical, I should think. Angels do not have military bases or fights for practice; the training I had was very different than what you have here. Its purpose is to have the appearance of freedom and peace, and fit for the weather in Heaven. It is a lot warmer up there, after all.” Arthur explained. “Does...being so revealing...Make you uncomfortable?” 

Alfred finally looked back up at Arthur’s face, fiddling with his tie. “Not...Really, I guess. It’s just new to me, that’s all. You’re very handsome and beautiful this way, and I like it.” he complimented without mind of how meaningful the words were to an angel. “I mean, I don’t think I’d be comfortable wearing that little cover. It suits you, though.”

For a moment, Arthur looked off to the side a bit bashfully. “Er, thank you, Alfred.” he answered, trying not to shift too much when Alfred moved to lay on his stomach, arms still looped around Arthur’s waist. “You would not like to be dressed this way? I am sure you would look very flattering.”

The demon made an uncomfortable noise in the back of his throat, and a blush creeping up in his pale cheeks suggested the mere thought bothered him. “Uh...H-hey, Artie, I can’t read this.” he had opened the journal Arthur had given him, and was attempting to read it across Arthur’s lap since his arms were still around the angel. 

Arthur could easily see he was trying to change the subject, so he let Alfred, but he still mumbled “Demon’s modesty fascinates me sometimes…” loud enough for the demon to hear. “You do not have to be shy around me, you know that?” It was a rhetorical question, and he didn’t expect an answer, but he hoped Alfred understood that he meant it. Looking behind himself to the right, Arthur looked at the journal to see what couldn’t be read.

“Hmm…” Alfred opted to continue scrutinising the random page he’d turned to, looking at the drawings in particular. “This is yours? What language is it? Dude, you’re really good at drawing.”

Listening to Alfred talk for a moment, Arthur narrowed his eyes at the journal, trying to think of some form of magic he could use, perhaps a translating spell. Wordlessly, he lifted his hand, and his fingers danced in a complicated but deliberate and calculated way. Alfred fell silent to watch, as Arthur peered more closely at the book like he was focusing on something about it. Both his hand and the words on every page that had been written on began to glow, until Arthur suddenly dismissed it with a swish of his hand.

The glowing dimmed quickly, and with a curious look, Alfred looked at the journal again. “...I can read it now.” he noted, sounding surprised. “Wow. Angels really can do a lot of magic!” his broad smile came back, as if he had never been anything but happy. “What else can you do? Can you, like, make stuff disappear? Can every angel do that much magic?” With every question, he’d scooted up eagerly closer to Arthur, until Arthur had no choice but to lean back a little. 

“Er, well, magic is usually something that requires training.” Arthur explained awkwardly, surprising himself when he realised he found the demon’s fascination quite cute. “Only a few angels are well versed like me, but that was because I spent a lot of my alone time reading and teaching myself. I think that was part of the reason they kicked me out, maybe because they thought it being ‘too clever?’ I do not know, but it really was not clever.”

Alfred tilted his head. “You taught yourself? I thought angels liked to be together and teach each other.”

With a nod, Arthur confirmed it, but made a face like there were special cases. “Yes. They do. It just...Was not fast enough for me, I suppose.” he admitted thoughtfully. “I wanted to know everything, and the process by which the higher ranked angels taught the younger ones like me went too slowly. I got bored, which is an emotion I learned about early on because of it. At first, the archangels encouraged me learning by myself, but later on, they started to confuse me because they told me I should start spending more time with other angels and not as much reading.” his eyebrows creased a little and his head lowered, as if he were just realising how sad it had made him.

“Wait wait wait, slow down. You have to learn about emotions? Why would they tell you to stop learning, what were they afraid you’d become too powerful?” Alfred laughed at first, but the amusement faded and his eyes widened after a few moments when the realisation dawned on him. “...Oh. That’s why they...Oh.” his voice got a lot softer once he noticed Arthur’s dark expression.. “I’m so sorry, Arthur…”

He shook his head. “No, no, it is alright. Yes, angels have to learn about emotions, and it is a slowly progressing sort of thing that I never completed. I do not know why they did not just let us feel for ourselves to experience it...Unless…” he trailed off. “Well, unless they wanted to control what we felt. Er, anyway, I suppose that is why I was the one ‘chosen.’ It would make sense.”

Alfred nodded when Arthur was finished, and adjusted himself more comfortably before his eyes flickered down to the journal. Arthur was glad for the silence; it gave him room to process what he’d just realised about Heaven, how corrupted it was. It was a perfect sort of corruption, giving off the impression of grace even to its enemies, and at the same time twisting the minds of all involved in it, to the point where even the highest authority could be manipulated without noticing it at all. The Angelicans had taught him what to do, what to think, what to feel, leaving no space for any individual motives or emotions. It was so perfect in fact, that he’d been fooled up until this point.

Looking upwards dejectedly, Arthur let out a deep, sad sigh. This was why he couldn’t be a part of either power, the Demonocrats or the Angelicans. It would be like choosing the lesser of two evils. There was no good, there was only bad. One was gradually using more and more control over its inhabitants to tell them what to do while they were blissfully ignorant to the crimes done to them. Arthur’s memory could not go back to a time when things had been better, except for when he too was ignorant. But in the history books he read, portraying those decades and centuries in the past that were condemned, now looked brighter and more free. 

The other was carelessly forcing its inhabitants to fight for an unknown, yet patriotic cause. A society of hatred, with absolutely no pretense as to what good was, only that victory would be the outcome. Demons appeared to have horribly pessimistic attitudes despite never opposing the government, always thinking of the worst. In Alfred’s case, it was more of a sad, apologetic acceptance that he would die a horrible death, and that had only started to change. 

Arthur glanced down at Alfred. He was resting his head against Arthur’s side, reading the journal with it held up in one hand so he could see over Arthur’s arm. The side of his horn pressed in Arthur’s ribcage, but it wasn’t painful, and even if it did hurt, Arthur didn’t think he would want him to move anyway. He found it odd; Arthur was still shaky and unsure of how much he trusted Alfred, but at the same time, he liked being close to the demon. The reverse also looked to be true, because Alfred may be extremely modest and shy about such closeness, but he never seemed to mind being intimate with Arthur. With a warm smile, Arthur lifted his free hand and combed his fingers gently through Alfred’s black hair.

For a moment, Alfred closed his eyes, as if he appreciated the feeling, before he returned to the reading and wrapped his other arm a little tighter around Arthur. “Hell, Arthur…” he mumbled after a moment, flicking back a few pages and brushing his gloved thumb across the very obvious blood stains he found. “You’ve probably felt so lonely.”

He seemed to have finished Zadkiel’s note, which was the most recent entry, and looked up at Arthur’s confused expression. He blinked a couple of times, before his brows lowered and he pouted. “You taught yourself stuff in Heaven, and that must have taken a lot of time. You were by yourself a lot, right?” At Arthur’s hesitant nod, he continued. “Well, once you got sent down here, there was literally no one to help you. You had to fend for yourself, and I can’t even imagine...I can’t even imagine what that’s been like for you!” 

Alfred abruptly started moving, shifting up on his knees yet still keeping close to Arthur. Once he’d turned and sat down properly, he opened the book to one of the first few pages and pointed at a couple lines. “You just wrote down a lot of facts, and sometimes how you learned them. You were teaching yourself about demons through experience, which was something you just told me wasn’t the way you were used to. You used to be able to just read everything, right? And suddenly you don’t know how to do anything or if you’ll live long enough to learn…” Alfred turned a couple pages, until he found a page where Arthur had reserved just for expressing his misery. “Look here, you wrote ‘I do not know how I have survived this long. Is it chance? Luck? I do not think I can go on fighting like this, everything is a constant fight for demons, especially for life itself. I have become more adept here, but I do not think I will make it for long. My mission is becoming more and more hopeless with each day.’ You were just so alone, and...Hell.” 

The next thing Arthur knew, he was being smothered in a hug, the journal set down on the bed so Alfred could pull Arthur towards him. “Wh-A-Alfred-?”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.” Alfred said in a muffled voice. “You don’t have to be alone anymore, you know? I understand things now. Like why you didn’t want to stay here before I knew you were an angel. But I know now, and I mean...We’re still kinda working on it, but you can trust me. I know I trust you, because as far as I know, you only lied about one thing. Everything else I know about you is the same, you’re still a frickin’ tough dude that sees everything for what it really is. And you’ve made others see too. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re an angel, you’re still Arthur. Maybe if we get this whole rebellion going, the others might understand too. It’s too dangerous right now, but maybe one day we can make them see that it doesn’t matter. Angels, demons...What’s the difference, really?” he laughed a little sadly.

Arthur had been slow to comprehend what had happened, but once Alfred had started laughing, he shifted his face into Alfred’s shoulder and hugged him back. “...I will stay here.” he said softly. “Yes, I was lonely, but I...I have never known anything else.”

In return, the demon made an odd sort of moaning noise, somehow nuzzling closer. “You’ll be safer here. You won’t have to feel lonely, or be so scared. You don’t have to fight for your life all the time, I have your back now. Okay?” his tail wound around Arthur as well, so determined to hold him close. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you.”

For a reason he wasn’t able to understand, Alfred just saying that soothed Arthur immensely. Almost to a point where he wanted to tell Alfred he trusted him again, though he knew that wasn’t true quite yet. But he felt...He felt those emotions he could not put a word to, those feelings not yet taught to him. They were good feelings, though. That’s what he concluded, seeing as he felt content enough to relax into the tight embrace.

“Alfred…” he began after a moment of sitting in silence. “You act so shy and uncomfortable around me sometimes, yet you seem to enjoy hugging me at random.” he commented quietly, noting that he was being held very protectively and firmly.

He couldn’t see the demon’s face, but with the slight shift, he could guess Alfred was blushing again. “You wrote in your journal about modesty, and how angels didn’t act like that. It’s with most demons, we don’t like to wear anything other than long sleeves and stuff and showing skin is just kinda weird.” he explained. Then, in a softer, meeker tone, he added “I don’t know why, but I like to hold you.”

At that, Alfred lowered his head so Arthur couldn’t see his face. Not like he could anyway, but it was endearing just the same. Arthur found himself unable to stop smiling. In his eyes, it was so sweet that a creature of such a reserved, curiously kind nature would like him enough to admit that.

They spent most of their day that way. They talked, told stories, tried to remember the happier parts of their lives, and remained close to one another the entire time. Arthur would never admit it out loud, but he thought he could feel something he had never felt before, something fond and warm. It was very nice, and a good way to distance himself from the anger and sadness he’d felt before. He couldn’t define it, but something in his gut told him he would never be able to let Alfred go.

Alfred acted all sorts of considerate and gentle, as if the smallest stroke would harm Arthur. Almost with reverence, he held Arthur close, determined to renew their earlier friendship. It was going to be a long process, but for once, Arthur felt he could actually rely on someone.

He was also free to express all the concerns that had built up ever since he landed in Hell. Alfred didn’t quite understand all of them, but he listened and agreed with or corrected Arthur about what he could. It was mostly things about continuing to play along like he still had a mission, or staying out of the way of the Demonocracy until there was a point when they could make a move. Arthur also asked a lot of questions, worried that Alfred wouldn’t find it as easy to free his mind from the trap they had both become a part of. However, Alfred’s answers assured him that the demon could see the conspiracies and lies now.

“...It’s like...Having all the secrets from centuries past even back to the Flame...Loaded on my back...And it weighs me down…But we have to wait, we have to wait for a sign, you know, a sign that we can do something. I am not sure what yet, but I will think of something…” Arthur mumbled, and then covered his mouth and yawned sleepily, but continued talking. “I will think of...Some move we could make, but we have to be patient...The Angelicans and the Demonocrats have this vast system built up respectively that relies on conquering our...our minds...But we can...We can fight it....”

It was late now; Arthur was beginning to trail off tiredly. Alfred was as wide awake as ever, and listened intently. But he seemed to know better than Arthur that the angel needed to sleep. He lay on his side right next to Arthur, calmly stroking his hair. “Yea?” he asked softly, unaware that his tone was very soothing to a sleepy angel. “Who do you think we should start with?”

Arthur thought for a moment, not even noticing how he was unconsciously working on snuggling into the jacket, the blankets, and of course Alfred himself. ‘“We could start...Start with the Demonocracy...We are already down here anyway…” he reasoned, his eyelids beginning to droop. 

“Mmhm…” Alfred hummed in agreement, pulling Arthur closer to make it easier for the angel nestling into him. “Well, before we go trying to dismantle the government, I think Mr. Conspiracy Exposer needs some sleep.”

“Nonsense, I can...I can stay awake, we could find the...The group and tell the lot of them about...About how we are going...To...Dismantle…” Arthur’s voice faded off, getting quieter and quieter.

Alfred let out a soft laugh. “A huh, sure, Artie. Let’s go tell them right now.” he slowly shifted one arm underneath Arthur’s head and let the other one rest over the angel’s suddenly small body. Arthur felt surrounded by warmth, and it was very nice.

“Okay...We can...Let us...Go...Find…” his voice became barely audible, as he was now talking aimlessly into Alfred’s uniform.

Finally, he relaxed completely, his eyes shutting and his body easing. His breathing became long and steady, and judging by Alfred’s stillness, Arthur assumed the demon thought he’d just fallen asleep. After a couple of moments, Alfred shifted ever-so-carefully to press his nose in Arthur’s hair. He managed to avoid his halo that time, and Arthur also felt Alfred’s tail securely wrap around his waist again.

“...Alfred?” he asked quietly, startling the demon.

“Ah-yea?” Alfred answered, stiffening like he was expecting to be told to release Arthur.

For a moment, Arthur was just quiet, until he moved himself even closer to the demon. “...I like to be held.” he finally said, like he was answering Alfred’s confession from earlier. “I feel safe. Thank you.”

That was all the demon needed to hear to relax himself and hold Arthur with just as much firmness as before.

O~o~O

Heaven was a disaster.

Everywhere Feliciano and Francis looked, Camael’s preaching denouncing Arthur’s efforts were becoming convincing to the angels not involved in the Angelican Party, and the Seraph gradually earned more and more support and belief. Angels of all ranks began to resent Arthur, albeit in a gentle way, but it was still the entirety of Heaven being turned against their only chance.

“The plan has been...Diverted,” Camael had told Feliciano after the fact, once he’d calmed down. “Diversion is only a small delay. Like I have said, there is no way Arthur can possibly get in the way of anything. This is the most he can do, prolong the inevitable.”

Forced to be his only confidant, Feliciano swallowed thickly and nodded to play along. “It would be impossible, sir.” he agreed in a weak voice.

So far, his only consolation had been this ‘diversion,’ as Camael put it. Initially, he’d nearly broken down completely in front of the Seraph while he watched the demon’s Rage resurface, and had to leave. He just couldn’t be the witness of Arthur’s death. However, upon getting called back into the spherical chamber, he almost cried out in sheer joy when he discovered he was still alive, while Camael was shaking in anger. Arthur had been right to trust the demon!

Camael had even gotten furious enough to storm out more than a few times. Each time he did, Feliciano could let down his apathetic front and watch Arthur alone, smiling at this demon called Alfred. He seemed very gentle, and accepting as well. After listening in on their conversations, Feliciano learned of Alfred’s usual nature, and how Rage was just a deficiency, a mental condition. He watched with wide, fascinated eyes at how tenderly Alfred held Arthur, how gently he touched him, and how patiently he helped Arthur gradually get used to him again. He never imagined demons could be so kind, and suddenly he felt himself craving similar intimacy; Arthur’s reaction to it was evidence of how long he’d gone without it.

Luckily, Francis was off duty by the time Camael dismissed Feliciano, and had the rest of the day to sit with the Principality and listen to what he’d seen. Arthur’s recent experiences brought hope to Francis, and he even felt kind enough to let Feliciano demonstrate how gentle the demon had been, and they cuddled together until it was time to sleep. Truly, they were the only ones who they could rely on. They couldn’t tell anyone now that they opposed Camael.

Once Feliciano had fallen asleep, Francis found himself restless, and he stayed up, stroking the Principality’s ginger hair and watching the sky with sad eyes. They were unable to do literally anything. Contacting Arthur couldn’t be done without suspicion anymore, and flying down to Hell put them at risk of becoming a Drone like Zadkiel. By this point, quite a few angels had been turned into mindless machines, even when they hadn’t done anything. According to Camael, they were the ones who he deemed “potentially dangerous.” 

They had to wait, and it pained Francis, because he knew that the only time they could actually begin trying to find ways to talk to Arthur was after the war began. Not the petty one that had been continually going all along, but the big, ultimate one that promised destruction. Camael was preparing for the war with these Drones, and he wasn’t sure, but Francis thought he was beginning to get more ideas from humans. The periods of time that Camael left for Earth were worrying, and Francis could only pray that he wasn’t sitting in with the War Hawks of the human race.

Since when did the angels become bad?

It took an entire sleepless day for Francis to come to the same realisation that Arthur did; Heaven had never been good. It had just all been an illusion, and the lies were disguised by a subliminal, deceiving face of purity. And they couldn’t do a single thing about it.

Realising it was a big step, though, and perhaps he could get others to see. Or maybe they just had to wait for Arthur to do something. Either way, they were a small step further than they had been now.

The trick now was to find out who all stood behind this. Obviously it was Camael, but were there others? Others who managed to fool the Angels for centuries without question until now? Francis decided his best option was to keep pretending he was with the Angelicans, while doing his best to find out how many were involved in turning around the direction of the Party and tainting all the Angel’s ideals. Francis couldn’t stand to let this corruption go without doing something.

O~o~O

Arthur’s return to the group was very well received. At least, for everyone else.

He had become stronger over the past couple of days, no longer thin and weak like he had been. Living with Alfred had returned some of his skin colour, his muscle, and sleek form. Alfred had even said he looked a lot healthier than he’d ever seen him, which was encouraging.

Before they flew from Alfred’s place to find the group, Alfred had given him a few pointers on how to come across as more assertive, though Arthur wasn’t the assertive type. He explained that dominance and leadership was not only something that demons responded to better, it was a display of confidence, and that Arthur just had to “fake it ‘til he made it.” Alfred looked a little dumbfounded when he found out whatever assertiveness Arthur appeared to have before was purely accidental.

Regardless, Arthur was a quick learner, and would do whatever he had to to assure the support he had. So, with no more time to waste, Arthur transformed into his demon form and took off with Alfred, heading for the alley he used to live in.

Once the demons heard him coming, which was from quite aways away, Alfred started grinning. “I can hear them.” he said, laughing.

“You can?” Arthur frowned, only then remembering that demons had a better sense of hearing and smelling than he did.

Alfred tilted his wings so he could fly closer and nudge him. “They’re whispering excitedly, they can smell us coming.”

Arthur assumed that was why he was greeted with demons all standing and facing the direction he and Alfred flew in at, all breaking out into grins and slightly louder conversations. “Paranomia has returned!” he heard some of them say. He could see Basch grinning at him, and even Ivan looked like he was at least a little bit glad to see him.

As soon as he landed, Arthur stood with his back straight and shoulders back, raising his chin to look at everyone. For some reason, there looked like there were more demons than when he last saw the group. As if to confirm it, Alfred landed next to him and leaned to mutter in his ear, “I think there’s some more people here. More than there were before, anyway. I guess we got some recruits or something while we were out?”

“Paranomia, it is good to see you again.” Ivan came forward with Basch to approach him. “We have been waiting for you. We’d like to fill you in on a few things.” Ivan said, though they both looked like they had a hint of nervousness, like they had done something wrong. Or maybe Alfred’s suggestion was working; perhaps he was intimidating them. “We have found a few fellow demons who wish to commit Opia with you and join us in our endeavors to defy the Demonocracy. I thought it would be for the best, even though you weren’t around…”

Ivan was acting like he’d challenged Arthur’s authority, and it seemed a very dangerous thing to do, which would explain his apparent anxiety. Alfred even pulled in a breath behind him, and Arthur guessed he was surprised that they had been so bold. However, their entire group was a reform of everything any of them had ever known, so it was not a matter of leadership to Arthur.

“Really?” he asked pleasantly. “Well, that is certainly convenient. Thank you, Ivan, thank you, Basch. It is good to have as many on our side as we can get.” he had trouble holding back a grin at their dumbfounded faces.

He’d thoroughly confused them, and he hoped to confuse them even more. “Listen up!” he raised his voice to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “Starting from here, it will be made clear that the Demonocracy has wronged us all!” he announced. “They have lied to us, they have treated us like we are nothing! But no longer!”

That earned a few tentative murmurs, and Arthur raised his wings to fly to the crate he used to sleep on. “They do not even care for our lives, we are expendable! Would you fight for an army that would not even miss you when you are dead and gone, soul lost forever?! Will you slam shut, or will you free your mind?! Or will you stay hypnotised, and fight blindly and rashly without regard for who lives and who dies?!” By then, every single demon had visible shrunken, shocked by the sheer power in his voice. He could see Alfred out of the corner of his eye, and unlike most everyone else, the demon’s eyes were shining in admiration. “When the angels fill the skies, will our ‘leaders’ tell us why?! They only tell us what to do, nothing more!” he paused to let them take it in.

They let out growls of what he hoped were approval, and he took that as encouragement. “We will wait. We will wait for our sign, and we’ll know when it’s time to make our move. But for now we must stay hidden so they will not see us coming.” he told them, and the growls escalated to a brief collective shout. 

They no longer looked afraid, instead they all stood with him, stood for him. 

This was his army.

O~o~O

“Oh, but it’s so much more than that, little Arthur…” the Seraph crooned, smiling as he twirled the image, making the magical projection of Arthur have little swirls in it. 

He couldn’t see it all yet. With every day he got a bigger and bigger picture, but Paranomia didn’t know everything just yet. He chuckled darkly in amusement.

“When the angels fill the skies,” he purred. “It’s just your leaders in disguise.”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like I don't have any idea how I wrote out this chapter so fast XD But oh my stars I'm so excited to have it done that I might try a timezone reblog about it on Tumblr because I'm publishing it so late XD Late for me, anyway, I am but a tired noodle who just wants to start a Resistance against two governments I made up :P Muse has taught me well XD
> 
> So originally this chapter was going to go in a different direction, but it just? Idk, I'm not sure if it was good or not. Like I'm genuinely not sure if this was a good first step in this next arc, but I'm hoping I have the right idea XD I mean, it's all planned out, but I might have taken an early and blind step into it :P
> 
> Exo-Politics was interesting to use, because the lyrics are about questioning the value of remaining with the government or standing against it. In the chapter, I used the idea of the lyrics in a mixed up order, like "Carried through the centuries, secrets locked up, and loaded on my back, and it weighs me down..." and "When the Zetas fill the skies, will our leaders tell us why?"
> 
> Interestingly enough(or well interesting to me anyways, not sure about you XD), the lyrics talk about Zetas filling the skies, which everyone just kinda assumes has to do with aliens because Muse loves to talk about aliens. In one or more particular performance(s?) Bellamy changed the lyrics to "When the Demons fill the skies..." which I actually did not know until after I had already planned on using this song XD I decided to play off of it, and changed it to "When the Angels fill the skies..." ;)
> 
> I love this song. Like, this guitar solo, the album it's from(Black Holes and Revelations), and the tone just perfectly reflects the skepticism and patience and determination Arthur has. Basically, I just love Muse XD
> 
> Heaven is a mess...:P
> 
> So! Heyyy, since I'm back to regular chapters now, I'll get on with the usual stuff~
> 
> Disclaimer** I don't own Muse, Linkin Park, angels, demons, zetas, or bible stuff :D
> 
> Makoyana is the artist for the cover image! (Sorry girl I'm gonna tag you in every chapter from here on out XD Regardless of whether or not you actually see this :P)
> 
> I got a lot of really nice reviews recently and my heart has just been so overwhelmed XD Like I am still shocked you actually like this! A lot of good things have been happening and it's just in general so nice :D I love you so much oh my stars someday I'll get around to addressing you individually to thank you XD
> 
> I'm gonna try to make Messenger a thing on Tumblr, actually! :D Someday also when I get some technological skills, I might even make a Messenger ask blog, or just a blog dedicated to Messenger and the sweet devil au. Or maybe just author stuff. Who knows? XD
> 
> Thank you for reading! :D
> 
> ~Madz


	21. No More Sorrow

O~o~O

Arthur stumbled upon something strange the next time he headed to meet with the group.

There were...Rhythms and beats, the sound of thumping and striking but all in a very coordinated way. Initially, it sounded alarming, and Arthur wanted to rush in to see what the commotion was. But, after a moment of listening, it sounded very put together, with evident arrangement and conduct.

After he slowed up, Alfred glanced back at him, noticing his confused expression like he was trying to decipher all the different sounds all at once. “What’s up, Artie?” he backed up, evening with Arthur and hovering above the ground.

His brows were creased in heavy thought, but no matter how Arthur tried, it all got jumbled up and confused, lost to his mind. How could something so complicated have so much coordination? 

“What…” he couldn’t quite focus with all the different beats distracting him. “What is that?”

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to Alfred. He shrugged. “Dunno, what are you talking about?” then, he noticed how Arthur reacted to the change in tempo of the drumming noises ahead, and he mouthed a short ‘oh.’ “You don’t know what Beating is?”

Arthur was looking towards the noises with an expression like he was caught in a state of paralysis. He would open his mouth to say something, only to lose track of his thoughts when the noises changed and danced around each other, and then he’d twitch or shake his head a little bit. It was moving too fast for him to comprehend it all at once. “N...uh...No.”

Alfred nodded slowly, as if he was putting things together in his head. Apparently, something made sense now. “Ohh...Well Beating is...It’s kinda like how you said angels like to sing? Demons like to do this instead, I guess it’s our version of a recreational activity? I mean, that’s how you put it. I dunno, dude. Anyway, we just really like counting to beats, banging on stuff, and seeing what kind of rhythms we can make.” he started laughing as he was talking, because he was watching Arthur physically react like the beats genuinely bothered him. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“I can’t...I can’t…” Arthur had heard Alfred, but he was still set on trying to listen to the Beating. He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward a little, starting to get frustrated that he couldn’t single out one sound. “Too...Complex, I can’t...Distinguish…”

It seemed so funny to Alfred, as he kept laughing, too hard to talk for a moment. “C-c’mon, it’s hard at first to learn, but it’ll be easier when you can actually see them.” he touched Arthur’s shoulder to lead him forward, and they started flying forward again. “Maybe the others will be occupied with teaching you instead of asking what we’re gonna do. It’ll be fun!”

Arthur hesitated before he followed Alfred. “If you- if you say so.” he muttered, shaking his head rapidly again.

Just before they rounded the corner to the group, Alfred glanced one last time at Arthur, who was still caught up in his confusion.Alfred gave him a sort of look that appeared he would rather like to reach over to ruffle Arthur’s hair, and it was an affectionate gaze that would have calmed Arthur if he were able to pay attention to him. His mind was just too tangled up in the different sounds to acknowledge it.

Finally, they flew it, and the scene Arthur came upon was quite stunning. 

As he and Alfred glided to a landing, Arthur looked around at the demons, some of them sitting and striking the crates and barrels, others keeping time on the stone walls and stomping on the ground. It was intense, all of them observing one another for changes to match, and all of them also smiling like it was a thrilling game.

Oh, it was so much more than that.

It was fun. It was genuinely fun, Arthur could see it in their crooked grins and fluid movements that sometimes got a little too excited and came in too early. This was a competition, and the ones who got off time were the ones who tossed their heads back in defeated laughter and let the remaining players have at one another.

Watching with wonder, Arthur noticed it was between several demons still, and he could finally focus on the singular sounds. Once he looked at a demon, he could watch their hands and identify their sound out of all the chaotic harmony. Ivan was still in it, as was Ludwig, and Basch was watching him with a growing smile.

“You get it now?” Alfred leaned towards Arthur to ask him, giggling when he saw one of the demons strike poorly off-beat and let out a pretend miserable cry. “It sounds kind of loud, right? On different surfaces, different strikes make different sounds. That’s why the ones on the walls and ground are stomping or slapping with their flat hands, and the ones on the crates are using their fists.” he explained.

Arthur nodded and turned a little towards Alfred so they could hear each other better. “Is it always in the form of a game?” he asked, his eyes flickering briefly up at Alfred before returning to the game, trying to guess who was going to slip up next.

Tilting his head thoughtfully in both directions, Alfred shrugged. “Not always. Usually, but sometimes we just like to, uh...I don’t really know the word for it. Where we just do it all together for a while ‘cause it’s fun.”

“Sometimes you just like to jam?” Arthur supplied, his lips curling into a slight smirk of amusement. “That is what the humans call it.”

Letting out a snort and slightly louder laughter, Alfred nodded. “Yea, that.” Then, he looked at Arthur with wide eyes, remembering something. “Oh, yea, dude. Blend your words more. You’ve gotten used to talking like an angel, you gotta ease back into saying stuff all together.”

With a surprised look at himself, Arthur glanced down, and then back up at Alfred. “Oh. I did n...Didn’t even notice I was doing that. Thank you. I’ll remember that; merge more, enunciate less.”

“Ooh, big words,” Alfred giggled, and nudged the angel when he got a light, teasing smack from Arthur.

Just then, Arthur and Alfred both looked over when a loud chorus of shouts came from the demons, and the Beating stopped. Arthur looked on curiously, while Alfred laughed, knowing exactly what had happened. Some of the demons were making deep, throaty noises at Ivan, and it sounded like a defeated groan. The others were yelling with Ludwig, who’d bared his teeth and spread his wings in a show of victory. 

Ivan rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You may have won this time, but next time you won’t find it so easy.” his words were tough, but his smile was good-natured, indicating that he was joking. All in good fun, Arthur supposed. Unable to hide his own smile, he observed the group of demons dance around and play like children.

This was truly the side of his army he liked to see.

Once his presence had been noticed, the demons invited him closer gladly, and he began to appreciate this unfamiliar intimate side of the demons. He’d never seen it when he was on his own, but this group that had come to respect him seemed comfortable to show it.

He started to learn of the Beatings, once he’d confessed he didn’t know what they were or how to Beat. Before all this, he guessed, it would have made them all a little more suspicious of him. But a strange understanding came over them, as well as a sort of pity that he didn’t know how to have their kind of fun. They taught him in a manner that he’d never had the privilege to experience before.

Patience, and relaxation. Alfred sat with him as he experimented with a few different beats, and learnt to keep time. All of the demons around him formed a circle, so they could all see one another, and they encouraged him with such a genuine kindness that Arthur could have easily mistaken them for angels were it a different game. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, and started to become more adept at hearing the changes and improvisations in the beat.

Alfred had been right, he’d realised. This was a form of bonding, almost exactly like the songs the angels sang except in the form of drumming instead of words. It was equally expressive, and, if Arthur would dare say, it was also more fun.

Over time, the demons seemed to forget about the Demonocracy. No one asked Arthur when they would make their move, or imply that he needed to be more urgent anymore. It also made Arthur happy because these demons were free from any sort of oppression or responsibility, and it allowed them to feel comfortable enough around him to be who they really were.

“You learn really fast,” Alfred commented when Arthur had managed to pull off an odd rhythm that reconciled itself about four measures after, earning ‘ooh’s of awe from the demons. He was right; Arthur had mastered using his hands, using other materials, and even coming up with some of his own. His preferred style was to improvise, finding the oddest things to make a beat out of. It went from pebbles, a broomstick, and once he even found a plastic bag, and always, he could find new rhythms and tempos. 

He supposed it was because the culture he was raised in influenced how he learned this new one. It seemed to be well taken, too.

“Paranomia, where did you learn such a style?” one of the demons asked him, after they had finished a long, thrilling ‘jam session.’

After setting down the lid of a metal can he’d used, Arthur looked at her with a thoughtful expression. “...I am...I’m not sure. This does not come as naturally as it could, but I suppose it’s because I’m used to word rhythms, not sound rhythms.” he glanced at Alfred as he said this, hoping it wasn’t enough to arouse too much curiosity from the others.

The demon sat up a little straighter, her interest piqued. “Words?” she asked incredulously. “What do you mean?”

By now, the other demons were under the impression that Arthur had come from a deeper level of Hell than they had, which was why his mannerisms and personality were so different from theirs. Ivan had even told him that it was probably why the Demonocracy had gotten so wound up about him in the first place. “Well, words that tell stories. A game I used to play was to make up fantastical tales of myths and legends, and tell them dramatically, like a narrative, if you will.” he told them, shrugging.

It wasn’t exactly a lie; angels did tell stories, but mostly while singing, not just talking. He remembered some of the odd stories he’d come up with, and of course, the ones passed down from centuries of retelling. They were beautiful tales of heroism and history, and Arthur would love to demonstrate, only, he couldn’t really sing for the demons. Not when his true self was still a secret to them. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alfred glance up at him nervously. Alfred knew what he was referring to, Arthur had told him this particular bit about angels. He nodded to the demon with a slight smile to indicate it was alright.

Perhaps he could improvise, as he had done with the Beatings. Oddly enough, when he made some of the rhythms, sometimes in his head he’d imagine words that had as many syllables as there were beats. It wouldn’t be too hard, he’d just have to be careful, and try his best to not add tone to it.

A few demons shifted a little bit closer and looked up at him with eager expressions. “Can you show us?” Basch asked, his eyes wide. “What sort of stories can you speak of?”

With a vaguely amused smile, Arthur nodded to them. “Of course I can. Just give me a rhythm, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Almost in an excited and frenzied rush, the group of demons looked at one another and started thumping randomly before the sounds all organised, becoming a simple sort of rhythm. Once it they had fixed up the tempo, they turned to look back at Arthur, who was struggling for words.

What could he say? What sort of poetry did this beat sound like it posessed? It was confusing for a moment before words began to organise themselves on the tip of his tongue, as the long practices in Heaven had taught him to do. Hours of songs and harps and voices and peaceful, ambient noises had formed him, making him the artist that all angels were, really. Opening his mouth with a small smile, he spoke in time with the beat.

“Where I come from is not who I am, it's not the roots of my name, I'm not a ram. Pause a moment to contemplate my fame, I'm not a dame, I'm not insane, I'm in...pain…” Almost automatically, Arthur hesitated with the beat when the demons briefly paused, following them closely. They looked confused, so he tried to nod to them to indicate they could keep going. And when he did, it all started to come together. “I look to the sky, it's part of who I am, but what am I? All demons lie, but so do I...I may kite from place to place, but I am not commonplace. Just because there’s a difference in our race doesn't mean I want you wiped off of this face.”

The others became a little more excitable when they picked up on the word rhythms that Arthur had mentioned earlier. The beat became more complex with Arthur’s story, and Arthur easily kept it going with just as much enthusiasm. “I watched and played as millions of yours died in the shade, they had a big parade...They marched through the streets, scepters in hand, on the land I watched as they salted your graves, I was naïve then...When, when, when…

“Do you ever wonder what goes down, down-under, land full of thunder, one blunder, boom, there goes, your life gone? No one knows…” Arthur glanced at Alfred, noticing that he had joined in on the Beating with a little hesitance; he could understand some what Arthur was saying, though to the others, it simply sounded like poetic nonsense like it would to a child who didn’t understand the concept of darkness. Only this was simply a consequence of the demons not knowing who Arthur really was. “O the woes of your countrymen as all of them fell. Well, I guess this is a daemon's hell. So you can all whine, but understand I am not of this time.”

O~o~O

He remembered...Remembered so clearly when he looked into the face of a kind death, with soft words and a hard gaze. He had found himself drawn to this creature, this new specimen, who could not possibly be from around this horrid place. Shrouded in so much mystery, this man had followers coming to him like moths to a flame, that flame being his burning green eyes and a matching will, a certain resolution.

With a shout, the demon clattered to the ground, gritting his teeth and clutching his wounds. He wondered, who the hell was this guy?! But the anger was quickly replaced with alarm when he appeared right above him, lifted his and prodded carefully at his injuries.

“Relax,” the voice told him softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” The fingers that had been gently pushing up on his jaw disappeared, and with bleary eyes, the demon looked at the hand being offered to him.

He was afraid, expecting to be hurt. But the reassuring smile and the calm air about the man above him somehow made him a little more willing. Taking his hand, the demon was pulled to his feet with an unexpected strength, to the point where he stumbled into the other.

“I’m taking him to the infirmary.” he heard the man say as he was supported completely, practically carried by him. Just then, the demon became aware of everyone’s eyes on him, including the commander’s who had witnessed his embarrassing defeat. Lowering his head shamefully, he tried not to think too hard about it while he limped along with the man.

There was a point along their slow progression where the demon supporting him seemed tired of having to go so slow, or maybe he was just trying to get him help faster. The demon had a feeling he’d never know. The only thing he processed was that suddenly he was swept up and was flopped over the man’s shoulders, his wrists and ankles held firmly to support him.

The demon coughed. “Why...Why are you doing this?” he asked hoarsely, and below, the demon carrying him shushed him gently.

“Pa...P-Paranomia-” the demon tried again, only to see his green eyes flash at him, looking oddly uncertain and even a little afraid, but so strong and defiant at the same time that the demon was frightened into silence. He didn’t do much from then on, only feeling his head thump into the other’s shoulder with every step.

After a while, he was dizzy from all the blood rushing to his head. Were he more aware, he would have noticed that they’d been walking in circles for the past several moments, and only now were they changing direction.

He was brought into a bright room, or maybe that was just the lighter shade of grey they walls were. “Sorry.” Paranomia apologised softly, noticing how he narrowed his eyes and let out a quiet groan. “Here, just relax…” 

Letting out a yelp when the support suddenly disappeared, the demon jolted. Everything happened in a blur, but then he was laying on a soft cot instead of being subjected to gravity’s grasp.

His breathing was fast and his eyes were shut tightly, at least until he realised he wasn’t falling and wasn’t going to hit anything. Opening one eye at a time, he met Paranomia’s powerful gaze, blinking serenely down at him, before the demon turned and left without a word.

He didn’t know much at that time, but he did know that this demon was stronger than anyone he had ever encountered before. Something in his eyes, or perhaps just the way he carried himself, but regardless, he knew he had to see this Paranomia again.

O~o~O

Recently, Arthur had been going out on his own.

He spent a lot of time thinking, scheming, planning out exactly how he was going to do this. It involved a lot of lone expeditions and flights, going out of his way to look for things and spy on important people. A lot of it seemed oddly urgent coming from him, but he wanted to feel like he was at least doing something. Especially when every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was a pale face with soulless, mirror-like eyes, haunting him every time he started to feel comfortable.

Alfred had asked if he wanted some company, but Arthur had told him it wasn’t necessary.

It was supposed to be a secret, after all.

Initially, it worried Alfred. He knew very well that Arthur could handle himself, and that Arthur had the reassurance of being able to come back to a home, but that didn’t stop him from asking every day if Arthur wanted this, needed that, when he would come back, if he could use anything.

If he were honest, Arthur found it really sweet. Alfred waited for him and greeted him warmly while Arthur told him what he’d learned, and never said anything about Arthur being up too late, because he didn’t need to. Arthur knew, but he wasn’t tired. He was wide awake, and didn’t sleep much or very well despite all that had happened to him. The worst part was, he simply didn’t want to sleep. Even after exhausting, long flights traversing cities, Arthur could hardly find himself enticed by the thought of resting anymore just because of the faint nervousness that came from the fear of dreaming about Camael. Sometimes he’d stay out so late that Alfred would even be asleep by the time he came back.

Occasionally, if he was warm enough and still, he could find a few hours of peace. The one thing he hadn’t told Alfred about his trouble sleeping was the fact he was afraid of seeing Camael, because the recurring dream was always the same. “Look what you did,” he’d say with a leer, and then gesture over the dead worlds. The end was something Arthur never wanted to think about, and yet his third eye decided to force-feed it to his unconscious mind.

Alfred was becoming a little more observant, with Arthur around all the time at that point. He still retained that privacy wall that Arthur learned to appreciate greatly, but he did little things to show that he could tell something was off or that everything was alright. Arthur also became more keen to things about Alfred, and learnt a lot of his little quirks and habits. Embarrassingly enough, the group seemed to notice their different intimacy, the kind of intimate where they’d be play wrestling one moment and then standing a little bit too close the next. They were more curious than anything else, but even so, Arthur and Alfred both actively tried to keep from doing much more than simply living in the same place in front of them. Act professionally. Though, when alone with one another, Arthur felt free to relax however he wanted to, as did Alfred, and it usually involved being together.

They’d started to come up with plans to follow should something go wrong. Alfred was very enthusiastic about these sort of plans, and insisted on naming them and assigning code words to them. Literally every scenario had a different name and code word, and it was hard to keep up with all of them at times. For example, in a situation where both of them were being attacked, Alfred would yell “Operation Tornado!” and Arthur would respond with “Get to the eye!” Luckily, Arthur had all of the ones they’d made so far written in his journal for future reference. They even talked about sharing some of the plans with the group.

All the fun Arthur was having during the waking hours and the work he did during his intended sleeping hours was changing all of them in a way. As he progressed, it occurred to him that the group needed more than just aimless recreational activity. They needed direction too, so he talked it over with Alfred about how he would start training them.

Though, sometimes he felt he was actually having more fun at night.

Flipping and arcing through the cities of Hell, Arthur went places he never thought he’d go, disguising himself as people he never thought he’d be. But he got things done, so it didn’t matter; if acting and hiding was what it entailed, he’d do it.

The Nkri graveyard was one of the first places he went back to. It would be a place he’d visit a lot, initially testing his endurance before he got used to the distance. He was never gone long, at least, on his terms. Flying around and reading, observing and taking note in the changes of the dead, as well as exploring for a while was all it took. Then he’d go back home.

He did that once every moon or so. Beyond that, he went different places every time. Places where the dark name Paranomia had not yet reached, where no one knew he was a fugitive. He also went to places he knew well, only staying carefully within the shadows out of sight and sound. He never showed himself in the same place twice, even if he promised someone he’d be there. He never quite let anyone look him in the face, either.

It was perfect. He was learning a lot. And without anyone who knew him, he could do so much more than he could before.

“I haven’t been around here for awhile.” he explained one dull night to a group of demons playing a card game that he joined in on. “I’ve heard that a lot has happened, what, with the Angelicans pissing the commanders off.”

They looked a little intimidated by his tone of voice and his accent. “Yea, some things have gone down here. They took down the citadel.” one grumbled around piercings in his mouth, his apparently tough and burly features paling to Arthur’s sheer cold demeanour. Arthur glanced at him from the side, and the demon immediately looked away, his eyes wide because he certainly didn’t expect to feel vulnerable and afraid this night. He nervously set forth his cards, setting them accordingly for the complicated game.

Messing with his own cards, Arthur organised his set and noticed how one demon had sweat shining on his brow, one girl was hunching her shoulders, and the others were fiddling with their cards in a pointed attempt to not look at him. 

They couldn’t look him in the eye. They were very obviously trying not to.

He didn’t feel bad. They couldn’t know him. But...He wasn’t trying to come off as cruel. “It’s your turn, love.” he gently reminded the smaller of the two female demons across the small wooden table, whose hands were shaking. He reckoned she was rather young, which was part of the reason she was so anxious-looking.

Her eyes widened for a moment, most likely assuming that she’d done something wrong. Not saying anything, she let her cards slide into place one by one, revealing her standings. Blinking almost boredly at them, Arthur gave no sign that it was only setting up his perfect turn that would end the game very quickly. The other woman added her cards, then the two men opposite them who looked a lot like the one sitting next to Arthur, and none of them seemed to notice that Arthur had only enough cards for one more turn, meaning he’d win. The small bag of coins sat patiently in the centre of the table, waiting for the victor to claim it.

Arthur was also amused vaguely by the fact none of them noticed that no one had played any of the aces.

With an impassive, unfeeling expression, he delicately set his cards on the respective piles, all except one. Then, after hesitating a moment to see their paled, shocked faces, he set down the final of his cards, an ace, in the last pile. “...And the Ace of Spades.” he commented matter-of-factly, holding the card thoughtfully for a moment and looking at the ink drawing of the figurative card character, before finally letting it fall onto the pile. Demonic, yes. Supreme, of course. That’s what an Ace was, after all. Perhaps they would start calling him that, Paranomia, the Ace of Spades.

He stood, without a word, gracefully stepping around them to pick up the bag in the middle. He would have left then, but he noticed the shoulders of the girl trembling a little bit. The others just looked dumbfounded and were most likely still trying to process what had just happened. 

Arthur opened the bag out of sight of all of them and got a small amount, deciding how generous he felt. “It’s alright. Don’t fret it.” he murmured to her, offering what was in his gloved hand to her behind the others’ backs. Then, he turned around and walked off, opening the door and heading into the pouring rain.

He knew what to expect if he left so quickly, so he didn’t spread his wings to fly and he stopped walking when he heard the sound of a few demons exiting the pub as well.

“You cheated.” a voice accused behind him.

Turning, Arthur stood tall and straight despite being soaking wet to the point where his red hair was already dripping. Not quite cockily, but with more of a sophisticated confidence. “I wouldn’t say that.” he disagreed in a level voice, not sounding in the least troubled. “I just happen to be very, very lucky.”

The demons before him bared their teeth in anger, and Arthur rolled his eyes before lowering his chin, knowing what was coming. The taller, bulkier, angrier demons began to come at him with wrath in their claws and greed in their eyes.

It ended almost embarrassingly quickly, with a pile of groaning, miserable ‘bad sports,’ and with Arthur flying off leisurely, a smug grin on his face.

O~o~O

As he glided back in the house, checking all directions for any lurking demons, Arthur switched forms and snuck in as quietly as he could. Somehow, even with his bright white wings and tunic, the shadows disguised him well.

Not that he needed to be hidden; Alfred was asleep on the bed.

For whatever reason, as an angel, Arthur didn’t wake up Alfred as easily as he did in his demon form; were he still a demon, Alfred would probably already have woken up and asked him where he’d been. Still, he’d have to be quiet. He may not have known why demons didn’t pick up so much on angels unconsciously, but he wasn’t going to test it out just yet.

Padding silently to the bathroom, Arthur washed his sweaty face, preened his wings, and then flew back out to the bed. There, he hesitated, not sure how silent he could be crawling in. His tired gaze flitted around, trying to figure out how to best sneak on, before it finally landed on Alfred.

A small smile lighted up his face while he looked down fondly upon the sleeping demon. Alfred was lying on his stomach, his cheek smushed on the pillow, making his slightly troubled expression look extremely childish. His form went up and down with his elongated, relaxed breathing, and his arm reached for something that wasn’t there. At least, not yet. The angel reached with a warm, peachy hand and tenderly stroked the demon’s black hair, before it retracted and the angel slowly lifted a corner of the blanket on his side of the bed to disappear underneath it.

He made himself comfortable as slowly as possible, with a relieved smile as the warmth enveloped him; the night had been very chilly. The shivers running up and down his exposed skin slowly died down, until he’d managed to arrange his wings and angle himself to face Alfred to move up close. “Shh, shhh…” he hushed gently, when Alfred shifted a little bit. Though, he couldn’t help a small chuckle when Alfred subconsciously found Arthur and snuggled closer himself with a quiet, tired noise.

With a soft “Mwah,” Arthur kissed Alfred’s forehead and then let himself relax, deep sleep taking over him automatically. Huddled up warmly with Alfred and his little nest of blankets, Arthur slept quite well, feeling safe and content in the arms of darkness.

O~o~O

“No- Look, see, when you do that, your entire back is exposed. Yea, if you do it faster like that, that might work.” Arthur adjusted the form on the demon a little bit more, and then stood in front of him. “Good! Now try to hit me again...Right, I know you can hit harder than that. Don’t be afraid of hurting me. That’s better, a little bit har- oomph!”

Ludwig’s eyes widened a little in shock when Arthur stumbled a step, wheezing. He reached for Arthur, looking startled he’d done such a thing. “Ah, Paranomia-”

Arthur held up a hand, his other holding his side. “I’m fine.” he gasped. “That’s enough to bruise, you could go harder, though. Remember, we’re going for a disabling move, not a silly little play fight.” Ludwig nodded slowly while Arthur limped back into his spot. “Also, with smaller targets, you’d have to concentrate on power as well. To face you, I’d have to be fast. To face me, you’d have to be more powerful. It’s all simple physics, really.” he coughed.

“Paranomia, why would we just want to disable someone?” as Ludwig stepped back, someone else from the wide circle of demons stepped forth for their turn. They were all watching and learning off one another, as was Arthur, only he was taking most of the hits. It was almost time to go away for the night; they’d been at it for awhile after a Beating first thing and even some of them were a little battered from practicing. “Why wouldn’t we just go for the kill?”

He tiredly started to turn, taking in a ragged breath, before another demon spoke for him. “When you kill someone, they can no longer fight. When you disable someone, they can no longer fight either, but they are alive so you can eventually make them fight for you.” explained a short, longer-haired demon called Yao. That demon was very reasonable and quick with his hands. In fact, he was almost faster than Arthur and could easily knock a demon like Ludwig down.

Arthur chuckled weakly. “Exactly that, thank you.”

“I think it’s better to have the potential of getting another ally instead of having to bury someone you’ll never know.” Alfred spoke up, grinning at the demon who’d asked. “Besides, the more, the merrier! Why kill when you can make friends?”

The demons all shared agreeable nods and a little bit of laughter, which Arthur noticed made Alfred beam; he loved entertaining people.

More relaxed than before, the demons took a little more lightly to Arthur’s black humour from then on, believing him when he said they could hit him. He did end up probably breaking something, and he knew they felt genuinely bad for hurting him, but they needed to practice on something. Arthur thought it was a great idea to put himself at the receiving end of their blows, and didn’t even think about how it might affect them. In fact, the idea seemed to make more and more sense with every hit as he got dizzier and dizzier.

Finally, it was Alfred’s turn. Alfred shuffled up to Arthur’s unsteady form, his blue eyes dancing around their feet, before he finally looked at Arthur, who was hunched over a bit from the effort of standing with a sore torso, making Alfred have one or two more inches than usual on him. “I can’t hit you.” he said matter-of-factly. 

He had that sort of puppy-like expression, the lost and mournful look that always made Arthur find himself doing whatever the demon wanted. “Come on, it’s necessary to know how it feels to hit someone hard enough to knock them over at least.” he tried to insist, and he glanced over Alfred’s shoulder to see the others grinning at them curiously. “Just to see how much it takes. That’s all you need to do.”

Alfred frowned and leaned even closer, closer than they were already standing. “I’ve been watching you get beat up all day.” he murmured in Arthur’s ear, barely loud enough for him to hear. “All I wanna do is heal you up and give you hugs because I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Raising his brows in an amused way, Arthur turned his head to look at Alfred and spoke just a fraction louder than him. “You can’t have any hugs until you hit me.” he taunted, trying to stand straight and cross his arms.

He’d said it a little louder intentionally; a couple of the demons around them giggled when Alfred stood straight again and looked down at him with an attempted stern expression. “You see this line?” he asked Arthur while gesturing to the ground, struggling to keep a straight face. “You just crossed it. You crossed that line. How dare you.” At this point he was actually shaking while holding back laughter.

Arthur was a little more deadpan with his teasing. “No hugs for an entire moon,” he warned, watching Alfred point dramatically at the ground.

“Guys, Artie’s being mean to me!” Alfred whined loudly in response, making some of the demons double over with laughter. Apparently, watching Paranomia and Alfred bicker playfully was funny.

With a roll of his eyes, Arthur prodded Alfred’s leg with his tail. “Oh, come off it and have at me, you great galoot. I’m not asking for much.” he thought Alfred’s hesitance was rather funny, and quite cute. “Just do it.”

Alfred sighed and pouted. “But I don’t want to.” he protested childishly. All his subtlety from before had vanished, since it was pointless anyway; the demons probably had already picked up on how close they were. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Artie.”

Sighing and shaking his head, Arthur crossed his arms. “You won’t hurt me.” he said as if it were ridiculous to think of such a thing, though it must not have been very reassuring with his hazy eyes and his difficulty standing straight. He did stand his ground, determined and convinced that he could take a million hits and still be fine. Alfred was most likely worried because the last time he’d hit Arthur, he was in the form of an arc demon with the intention to kill. Arthur had forced any fear of that down before, and now all the effects of him taking so many hits put him in a state of stupid confidence. “Show me what you’ve got, Alfred.”

It wasn’t doing much other than making Alfred conflicted. The demon frowned, half-heartedly rearing back his fist and slumping his shoulders. He was used to listening and doing what Arthur told him, but he genuinely did not want to hit him despite the order given. His fist ended up gently thumping Arthur’s shoulder.

“Oh, please.” Arthur made an exasperated noise. “That was nothing, I want you to try to knock-”

“Arthur, I can’t. Please don’t make me, I can’t.” Alfred lowered his arm, looking upset. “Please, Artie, I can’t. I just can’t.” he shuffled forward, arms open like he wanted to hug Arthur, but, irritated, Arthur shunned him and backed away. 

It surprised him, actually, when he resisted. He normally wouldn’t get so angry over such a thing, but for some reason, Alfred’s unwillingness to cooperate frustrated him. He didn’t say anything to Alfred, and turned his back to the demon. “We’re done for now.” he told the others, his tone unexpectedly harsh. “Next time, we’ll do some more sparring. For now, get some rest, and keep yourself healthy.”

Pretending to be unaffected by his demeanour, the demons nodded and waved with quiet farewells before flying away to where they lived, one by one. Within moments, the entire army had all but disappeared, even the ones who had not participated in Arthur’s circle. All of them were gone, all but Alfred, who still stood behind him. Arthur breathed in deeply but shakily, trying to calm himself down.

The silence was tense. For a while, Arthur didn’t turn around at all, rather, focusing on breathing correctly since his lungs weren’t quite working the way they should. However, the minute he picked up on the sound of a boot sliding on the damp concrete, Arthur whirled around to face Alfred with an unintentional glare.

“A-Arthur?” Alfred asked meekly, wringing his hands. He looked like he wanted to approach Arthur, but was too nervous to try. “...Artie, I’m...I’m really sorry…” he mumbled, lowering his head and looking anywhere else but Arthur’s eyes. He didn’t appear to know what he did wrong, other than refusing to do what Arthur wanted, of course. But still, he was apologising.

Arthur’s head was clearing just a little bit. Wrinkling his nose, not at Alfred but at the flash of pain in his side, Arthur started to limp forward towards Alfred. “It’s...It’s alright, Alfred. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. I’m just not…” he trailed off when he tripped, and Alfred immediately flew forward to catch Arthur, even though he wasn’t falling. “...F-feeling too good.” he finished awkwardly.

He glanced up when Alfred didn’t do anything, only to see that the demon was backing off, afraid of coming near Arthur. For what reason, Arthur had no idea, only that it was his fault.

Sighing, he righted himself and spread his wings as best as he could. “Let’s go home.” he said, feeling guilt bloom in him. And with that, he took off.

O~o~O

During the time he spent preparing for his nightly expedition, Arthur kept an eye on Alfred, who was watching him like a kicked puppy. Normally, Alfred would be following him around, asking if he needed anything, if there was anything he could do to help. He did it almost every day, and now it seemed so strange that Alfred was just sitting on the bed, waiting for him to go.

Arthur felt horrible, but he had no idea what he could say.

By now, Arthur was normally all healed up by Alfred and ready to go, but he was still limping around and also had absolutely no motivation to go anywhere. He still didn’t feel like sleeping, and had to convince himself that there wasn’t anything better to do. But there was this low, terrible feeling in him that made it really hard to just leave like he wanted to.

He did have to heal up somehow, but he didn’t want to interact with Alfred only to just leave him; that would be cruel. So he stood in the doorway to the balcony inside the place. He faced outside so he wouldn’t be looking at Alfred, and started to unbutton his jacket, intending to make himself cry so he could heal himself.

Though, after several moments, it became clear that it wasn’t going to happen. He even tried to make himself sad, but all that did was make his already depressed mood even worse. It would have concerned him, since angels were able to cry easily at will even if they weren’t actually sad, but he wasn’t even thinking about that.

He thought of the worlds ending. That was pretty sad, but it didn’t get much out of him. Not even the teary eyes he normally would get after thinking of such an awful thing. Had he worn the subject out? His hands stopped messing with his shirt once he could see the bruises, and he looked down at them. Thinking about the war overwhelming the realms make him incredibly sad, but his eyes remained dry. All he could do was sniffle.

Almost immediately, Arthur heard the shifting of blankets when Alfred zoomed off the bed and flew out to him, almost like he’d triggered some sort of alarm. Though, when he looked at Alfred in surprise, it did look quite like there were sirens going off in his head.

“Arthur? What’s wrong?” he asked, looking slightly startled that Arthur’s torso was partially showing. “A-are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’m fine, Alfred, I was just thinking.” he replied, trying to smile. It looked more like a grimace. 

Alfred frowned, his amazingly expressive eyes still looking very sombre. Gaze flitting about, he gave Arthur a once over, finally brave enough to look down at him. He looked surprised at the angry, blotchy grey marks along Arthur’s side, and moved his hand away cautiously. He didn’t appear to catch on to Arthur’s intention to heal himself, to his relief.

“I can, um, heal you. I-if you want.” he offered softly, like he was expecting to be denied. He looked up at Arthur, his bright blue eyes wide and unsure. But Arthur nodded, and Alfred relaxed instantly and quickly knelt down to mend Arthur’s sore injuries.

A relieved sigh escaped Arthur as the pain finally started to ebb away. He could take pain, of course he could. But it was really pointless to sustain injuries when he could heal them, especially when he had things to take care of. “Th-thank you.” he muttered, as the wound from his leg was healed as well. The bruises on his side were still a little sore, since Alfred didn’t have the ability to heal them all the way, but they didn’t hurt anymore.

Once Alfred had finished, he stood, looking over Arthur and making sure there wasn’t anything else Arthur needed healed. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t figure out how to word it, or maybe he was just too shy to. That only made Arthur feel worse; that meant Alfred didn’t feel like he could talk to Arthur.

He had to try and fix this as best as he could. It was going to be hard, because he and Alfred had never had a problem before. But Arthur did this, so he had to reconcile it. He went for it before he could hesitate.

“What’s the matter, Alfred?” he asked gently, deciding on his instinctual approach. Careful not to move quickly or be too blunt, he swallowed nervously but tried to keep a calm facade.

Alfred’s eyes flickered at his for a moment, before he looked away. His mouth was turned in a particular frown that gave off every sign of not wanting to speak, but Arthur was patient. He also noticed Alfred gulp noticeably. He was silent for awhile. “...It...It gets lonely here without you. Whenever you go away during the sleeping hours.” Alfred finally let out, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

TIlting his head with a sad face, Arthur opened his mouth to apologise, but Alfred spoke over him suddenly, like he was expecting to be told something else. “I-I know I was already alone before you came here! I just never knew loneliness like you do. And now that I’m so used to seeing you and living with you every day, it just feels strange when you’re gone.” as he went on, his voice got quieter and quieter until he was just mumbling almost inaudibly. He didn’t look like he understood what he was saying himself.

Arthur had had no idea Alfred had felt that way all this time. He knew that Alfred had definitely wanted to come with him and help him, but it never even occurred to him that Alfred could be lonely. Blinking, Arthur felt his heart clench; as this went on, he was only feeling more and more like a terrible person. “...I’m sorry.” he apologised softly. “I didn’t think you were lonely, I-”

“You’re so fast paced! You get so much done when you’re not sleeping, and you’re so clever too! I know that I would slow you down, but you can teach me to keep up, can’t you?” Alfred suddenly said, looking at him with wide, desperate eyes. “I know you can handle yourself, but I’m not sure I can handle myself as well as you. Hell, you handle me better than I handle me. But you- you do all this stuff yourself and I wanna help! I feel really useless just sitting here doing nothing while you’re saving the worlds. N-not that I wanna steal your thunder or anything, but I just...I thought we were in this together now.”

“We are in this together.” Arthur replied automatically, reaching out for Alfred, only to hesitate. “I...I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise...I didn’t realise it was that important.” Alfred’s hand twitched, like he wanted to move closer as well, so Arthur continued forward a little reluctantly and took Alfred’s hand. “You’re right. This isn’t something either one of us can do ourselves. We have to have each other’s backs. I know you have mine, and...Well, I suppose I should work on really showing that I have yours, too.” he smiled guiltily and moved forward to pull Alfred into an embrace.

Alfred hugged him back tightly, looking upset and relieved at the same time. Rubbing his back, Arthur tilted his chin up so he could murmur in Alfred’s ear. “You’re upset and I’m really sorry. I want to make it better. You can come with me tonight, alright? Also...I know that what I did earlier upset you as well.” he glanced down, taking a big breath to reassure himself. “It was wrong of me to ask you to hit me when you didn’t want to. I’m not actually sure why I thought it was a good idea; I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m so sorry, Alfred.”

He felt Alfred shudder and bury his face in Arthur’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Artie.” he replied quietly. “It just confused me, and kinda scared me because...W-well, last time I hit you, I-I was-”

“I know.” Arthur spared him the explanation calmly, his tail finding Alfred’s and twisting with it. Alfred calmed down a little when he did that. “I know, I’m sorry.”

With that encouragement, Alfred pulled back just an inch to look at Arthur. “Are we...Are we okay now?” he asked softly.

Arthur smiled privately at him, a smile he would only let Alfred see. “That’s up to you.” he answered, affectionately combing his fingers through Alfred’s black hair and leaning closer again. It appeared to be all Alfred needed to smile back and relax, finally.

It wasn’t so bad. With the relief of there no longer being a problem, both Arthur and Alfred took a moment to take it easy before they were ready to leave as Arthur had promised.

“You sure you don’t just want to sleep?” Alfred had asked him, just to be sure.

Shaking his head, Arthur smiled wryly at him. “I’m wide awake, there’s no chance I’m sleeping.”

And with that, he took off with Alfred right behind. Diving along the shadow-strewn streets and flying far through the chilly, silky breeze, and under the dull, silvery light of the moon.

There was something very thrilling about flying at night with someone else, something that excited Arthur with their speed and twisting directions. The air was cold, but his muscles were warming up and he flew powerfully into it, easily facing the wind. It almost seemed like Alfred was having trouble keeping up with how fast Arthur was going.

The streets were a dark blur, the obstacles anticipated and avoided easily like they weren’t even there. Twirling through the night and picking up the pace, Arthur shot through the air like an arrow because his lungs were wide and his heart was excited, and he wanted to keep it that way. He felt so liberated, and something told him that the demon beside him felt the same way. As if the bright grin wasn’t enough proof.

Arthur could see his blue eyes glittering in the dark. “Having fun?” he whispered, a shadow covering his own eyes from the faint light above. Alfred responded with a nod and an even wider smile up at him. 

By the time sweat sheened their pale faces, they had reached a far, barren part of the city. They both panted softly as they slowed down, Arthur gesturing silently to remain quiet. He didn’t know what was here, but he had seen some highly ranked demons head in this direction before. Tonight, he wanted to know the reason for it.

After tilting their wings to head upwards, they landed softly on the roof of the shortest building. Their boots barely made a sound as they crept quickly along the edge, Arthur listening carefully and Alfred looking around once they reached a wall to make sure no one was around. 

“...As per our instructions to...looking for the…” Alfred picked up on the faint voice first, but as soon as Arthur heard it, he whipped his head up in its direction and started to head towards it along the wall. “...Been messing with our...but we can’t allow...when we’re this close…”

Arthur narrowed his eyes and ducked his head once they reached a low edge, crouching so he wasn’t in view of anyone in the building across from them. Making sure Alfred did the same, he tried to go as fast as he could without making a sound. He had to ignore his back aching from being hunched over and with his wings folded so tightly. “...Came and told the Commander to avoid...he’ll kill us if we don’t…” Arthur strained to hear more.

Finally, they reached a taller wall and stood back up straight, backs flat against the brick. “...Said he’ll keep a close watch on…” Inching closer and closer, step by step, Arthur and Alfred finally reached a point where they could hear the speaker clearly. Dropping down to their knees, they peeked over the top of the roof down at a small gathering of demons, all with intimidating uniforms that suggested very high rank. One of them was standing and talking. “...So once we’ve found him we can be rid of him. As long as he’s out of the way, Camael will be satisfied; he said he’ll take care of everything else.”

With a glance at each other, both Arthur and Alfred’s eyes widened.

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY STARS GUYS I'M SO SORRY IT'S BEEN LIKE TWO MONTHS AHHHH
> 
> Okay so I do have kind of an excuse, um basically I was well into writing this chapter and was gonna finish it sometime late January, early February, but at school I volunteered to do a demonstration in Physics on momentum and long story short I got a concussion from it which led to a huge writer's block :(
> 
> I'm still working on getting out of it XD But recently I got like a gajillion ideas for this chapter which is why it goes in so many directions at once...It's probably a little confusing XD Some of it will make sense later though :D
> 
> Okay! So, Linkin Park song for this one XD No More Sorrow is lowkey one of the coolest songs ever, just sayin'. If sung, it would be in Arthur's point of view, but directed at Camael and some faceless demons that we don't know yet...If that makes sense...
> 
> You know I literally just realised I totally forgot to do lyrical input but that's okay XD My favourite line goes something like this:
> 
> "I see pain  
> I see need  
> I see liars and thieves,  
> Abuse power with greed,   
> I had hope  
> I believed  
> But I'm beginning to think that I've been deceived..."
> 
> Which I mean duh he already knows he's been deceived and stuff but it could also imply that he's becoming a bit paranoid too, like with everyone...Paranoia Paranomia ;) Plus he's been super observant recently so maybe it's just really easy to see who the liars are XD
> 
> For the Beating! Remember how Arthur totally spat some rhymes for it? That was about the time I got my concussion and all my poetry skills went out the door XD So credit for the poem Arthur rapped goes to my bestie, CharlesSalazar!! :D
> 
> Actually that should go with the disclaimer but idk I gotta type fast because it's sleepy time-(I have a track meet tomorrow *sweats nervously*)
> 
> Disclaimer** I don't own Hetalia, the bible, uhh Charles' thing, and the cover art is by Makoyana!
> 
> Thanks for reading!! Sorry it took so long! (P.S. On Fanfiction.net you guys should like totally log in so when you review I can reply and scream because y'all make me really happy XD)
> 
> ~Madz


	22. The Handler

Arthur was working on his theory for how demon ranks worked.

Like angels, ranking was very complicated and hard to understand. But, like the language English, it made sense until one was trying to learn something else.

He’d given instructions to the demons in the group to practice defencive moves on one another while he sat on his old crate, grumpily sketching and scribbling in his journal. Listening to them was too distracting, so he tuned them out while he took up a considerable amount of pages, his mind practically doing gymnastics trying to figure everything out.

Demon ranks appeared to work similarly to angel ranks in that there was a hierarchy that had to do with power. Whether or not that power was magically bestowed as they were to angels, Arthur had yet to find out. One recurring trend was the fact that demons of higher ranks were generally more worn and bigger than others, as in physically scarred and larger. Dents in their long, twirling horns, clipped ears, tattered wings, and the largest demon Arthur had ever seen had a thick metal piercing in her nose like the kind used by humans to lead a bull to-

He only looked up when he heard a sharp cry, throwing off his concentration. Whipping his head up, Arthur looked at Alfred, who smiled nervously at his hard look and continued to do what he was trying to. His glare was caught between something like ‘you threw off my thinking’ and ‘be more careful, you git.’ “Of bloody course I’m hyper-sensitive to him.” Arthur muttered, wrinkling his nose when he realise how sore his neck was from looking down for so long.

Groaning irritably, Arthur tilted his head forward, and then in a slow circle to stretch the back tendons in his neck. His head felt a little better when he did that, but it still ached; he’d been thinking too much and not sleeping enough. He opened his eyes and watched the demons practice for a little while. Why were they smiling and laughing? Why did it all seem like a game to them? “This is war,” he muttered to himself, wrinkling his nose and resting his arm on his knee. “Not recess.”

Though, he knew the war didn’t involve them quite yet. But it would, it would soon enough. And they had to be ready.

But ready for what? Arthur pondered the various scenarios in which they could get involved. Perhaps they could pretend they were Demonocratic vigilantes for a while, serving what they called justice before truly revealing their place. That sounded a bit ridiculous. Maybe he could go find Phobos and Deimos and spy on them to see where they were involved in this complicated network of deception. Or maybe he could let himself be found by the commanders searching for him and see how he and his group stand against an attack. But for that to work, he and Alfred would have to do some more night work…

Arthur blinked when he realised as he was going over ways to go about his objective, he was angrily scratching Camael’s face in thick, dusty graphite in his journal. He was only surprised for a moment, his expression twisting into a snarl. The Seraph had that same serene, languid smile as he did in his dreams. The dreams, or rather, nightmares, had gotten more persistent, leading to Arthur sleeping less and less. The only difference was that Camael’s eyes had gotten darker and a little bluer, so they were less like mirrors and more like a deep lagoon. And much like water, he could see his reflection rippling in them, until he was distorted beyond recognition.

Camael had been very intrusive in his thoughts recently, to a point where Arthur was becoming concerned about it. It wasn’t normal to constantly, subconsciously think about one person, and it certainly wasn’t healthy to feel a rush of adrenaline every time it came up. It was apparently so strong that Alfred could even smell it on him, the senseless urgency and aimless fear.

Whatever it was, Arthur found himself unable to say that it was just him anymore. Something was being done to him. It was the only way to explain why he felt like he was always being watched, and why he couldn’t shut his eyes without bile threatening to rise in his throat. It wasn’t quite natural, but it wasn’t quite magical either. It had to be something inherent, something that already existed that Arthur knew about. Something he already had that could be rid of.

He had become irritable and angrier as it went on, as anyone would expect from being sleep-deprived. But Arthur hardly noticed; the only time he could see it was when he surprised himself by saying something that came off as harsher than he’d intended. As a consequence, his group and even Alfred had become slightly more wary of him. He genuinely didn’t know why; he was acting the part and doing his best to lead them. If there was one thing he was doing right, at least, it was the teaching. His group had gotten better at fighting and a lot stronger than they were before. Yes, he was a little more violent and aggressive, but it was necessary for them.

At least Alfred still was bold towards him. In front of the army, Alfred backed down a little more often, but when they were alone, they were just as intimate as they had been. If that didn’t remain the same, Arthur didn’t think he could stay sane.

Letting out a huff, Arthur closed his journal and slid it back in his inside pocket. He decided he needed to talk to Alfred later about his dreams; perhaps the new perspective would give him some ideas, though Arthur knew he was in for a lecture or something along those lines for keeping secrets. But the idea of Alfred trying to lecture Arthur made him smile briefly in amusement. That quickly went away, when he jumped off the crate he’d been sitting on and flew over to the group to check on how they were doing.

“Oi. That’s enough for now, you can take it easy. I know it’s early, so we’ll do a different exercise.” he came through them, looking around at the demons. They were all panting, shiny with sweat, and were a little bit battered. Arthur remembered he couldn’t overwork them in such an enclosed area like the alley, otherwise they’d overheat. One of his more minor concerns was that they might think he wasn’t working as hard as they were, because he didn’t ever get too hot. Either that or they might think he was far stronger than they already thought, which arguably could be a better stance. He glanced at Alfred, who grinned tiredly at him. “This won’t be hard. Pair up with someone different, and we’ll do some light wrestling. This time, try to restrain your opponent’s wings so they can’t open them up. Without hurting them, if you can.”

Working with some of the newer demons to the group, Arthur demonstrated various ways to immobilise an enemy without having to hurt them. In fact, the only time they could get hurt if it was done right was if they squirmed or struggled too hard.

One of the demons slightly bigger than Arthur tried to restrain him, but his grip wasn’t quite hard enough and Arthur easily escaped from him. But then, after having one of the more experienced demons try and hold him back, Arthur remembered they might not be able to hold him back anyway; his wings were still stronger because he had different muscles developed from being an angel, muscles that were generally weaker in a demon’s back. So, along with his pointers in mastering the hold, he gradually pretended to be held back as well. He hoped it would get to a point where he wouldn’t have to pretend, eventually.

He also had to teach them to escape from a weaker hold, so the reverse had to be done as well. Instructing them to start off gently, he showed how exactly to wiggle out of a tough grip and be ready to fight back. Once he’d done it a couple of times, he let them try to escape from him.

The only newer one who could manage it, even if he wasn’t holding them that tightly, was a demon who he expected to learn quickly. He had restrained her, but she shook him off with a startling force and turned around with a victorious grin. “Very good, Elizaveta,” Arthur praised her, unable to help smiling at her when she grinned at him. From the moment they’d committed Opia the day he met her, Arthur knew she would be quick to learn and very clever. It was something in her eyes, something unbroken and defiant.

“Thank you, Paranomia.” She thanked him, bowing her head a little bit. She had a very admiring smile; she had expressed to him once that she’d wanted to join him for awhile, only it was difficult to escape the base since it had become more strict with Paranomia gone and out of their control. So during the time she wasn’t able to leave, she’d done some asking around and got some really useful information for Arthur. Things that Arthur didn’t even think of. She was very dedicated to his slightly vague cause, and the fact that she actually thought to ask around for such things before she could join proved she was very intelligent and keen, and was a valuable addition to his army.

In fact, it gave him a small idea as to how he could go about spying. The way she did it reminded him of how he was doing things at night, but he could do it on a larger scale with some people from the group, too…

“Alright, that’s enough for now. We’ll continue next time with something else. I’m putting together a plan for us to infiltrate the base come the next few moons or so. Just be ready for us to adjust when and where we meet. You have all been doing very well with training, but keep practicing to make sure your technique is impeccable!” he dismissed them, and they all flew out with encouraged smiles at him.

He sighed as they went. They were stronger than he’d ever seen them! Feeling his chest swell with pride, he turned around to face Alfred, who’d approached him with a tired grin.

Relaxing, Arthur flicked Alfred with his tail. “A plan to infiltrate the base? Sounds exciting.” Alfred commented, raising his eyebrows and smiling broadly. “What are we gonna do, go all James Bond and bust in?”

Arthur tilted his head curiously when Alfred snickered at his own joke. “What...Sort of bond is a James bond? Are you saying we have the bond of James?” He asked, only to make Alfred burst out laughing.

“Aww, you don’t get that reference? Sad, sad,” Alfred made a face at him but still looked amused. “James Bond is a dude. Not just any dude, but the dude! He’s like a spy or something, a fictional character in the human world. In fact, he’s kinda like you.” When Arthur nodded in understanding, he blinked and added “A lot like you, actually.” though, he didn’t seem to know exactly why.

After a little bit of teasing banter, Arthur suggested they head back home, because he remembered he wanted to talk about his dreams. He felt tired suddenly, and the idea of curling up for a nap appealed to him greatly for awhile. As an experiment, he let his mind wander and thought a lot about sleeping, and, as he expected, he started thinking about Camael again. His heart skipped a beat.

It bugged him so much in that instant, to where he was physically disturbed about it. A very urgent feeling came over him and he opened his mouth to say something about it early on their flight back, only to realise Alfred was talking to him about something-or-other. It probably wasn’t anything too important, but Arthur felt bad for ignoring him. He closed his mouth and tried to concentrate on what the demon was saying, but kept spacing out.

That scared him. It wasn’t a normal spacing out, it was forced, like something was purposefully putting him out of focus and putting him in a floaty state of mind that repeatedly starred Camael. He felt sort of like it was similar to being dragged along the ground too fast to process what was happening or to escape.

“...So then I told him that if he really wanted my cottage cheese, he’d have to eat all the lima beans and become the king of ducks before I’d talk to him again.” Alfred said flatly. Arthur noticed Alfred turn his head to look at him, so he glanced over.

Then, he processed what Alfred had actually said, and looked at him in startled confusion. “What?”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Have you been listening to a thing I’ve been saying?” He looked a little ticked, but more hurt than anything else. Arthur looked away and narrowed his eyes, somehow looking more annoyed than remorseful like he really was.

“No, sorry. My mind’s on something else.” he muttered, not coming off as apologetic at all even though he did feel bad.

This didn’t seem to satisfy Alfred. “Something else? Like what?” he huffed, crossing his arms. His own eyes narrowed and his nose wrinkled almost defensively. Arthur knew Alfred didn’t like being talked over or ignored at all, and swallowed thickly. But no matter what he felt, nothing he said or did made him look like he was very guilty.

He ducked under a pipe and twirled to avoid a column before he answered. “There’s...Something I should tell you.” he mumbled quietly, finally managing to show that he did feel bad. “I’m sorry for ignoring you, I really am. I’ve been distracted by dreams that are starting to...resurface now…” Almost on cue, he had to shake his head in an attempt to dissipate the thoughts, the vivid face he could see in his mind. He almost missed a turn because of how offput he became because of it.

“Dreams?” Alfred’s eyes were wide when Arthur looked at him again. “Arthur, what’s going on?” he asked worriedly.

Arthur let out a frustrated grunt when he saw death and destruction in his head, making him miscalculate a dive and clip his right wing and shoulder rather hard. It surprised him so much that it took him a moment to get back up to speed. “I-I’ll explain.” he promised in a tense voice through a wince, trying to correct his uneven wingbeat. “But let’s get back home first, I can’t concentrate and talk right now.”

Nodding in understanding, Alfred shut his mouth and flew on. He looked worried, and kept glancing at Arthur every few moments. But if anything, Arthur was relieved Alfred knew him so well enough to know when to trust his judgement.

Luckily, before Arthur could really hurt himself, he managed an unusually clumsy landing on the balcony. That was when he stumbled to the railing and held himself steady there, trying to will the images out of his head, when he felt strong arms wrap around him.

“Let’s go inside.” Alfred murmured in his ear, using the tone of voice that always calmed Arthur down from almost any state of distress. “Come on, Artie, let’s go lay down. Talk to me, buddy.”

Arthur huffed and allowed Alfred to lead him inside. Alfred was still holding on to him, and he walked all the way over to the bed. With more grace than Arthur had at the time, he fell back on the mattress and rolled just enough so they were lying down facing each other.

It felt like it had been forever since Arthur had last been on the bed with the intention to relax as they were. He pulled in a breath, and let out a very deep sigh as his mind began to clear up a little bit. His head felt fuzzy, so he closed his eyes for a moment, hoping it would go away. With his eyes closed, he tried to really feel, and return himself to the real world. The dreamscape was becoming too odious for him to keep going, and he was filled with gratitude that Alfred had led him back so quickly.

He felt his tail lying limply behind him, it’s lack of movement evidence of how tired he was. He felt the muscles in his legs, sore and relieved to be still. He felt his face relax, his horn pressing into the pillow his head was resting on. He felt his wings, only just aware that he hadn’t bothered to fold them properly against his back. He felt his gloved hands, one in a loose fist and the other held up, his fingers being played with by the demon lying beside him.

When Arthur opened his eyes again after a very long moment of focusing on his breathing, he saw Alfred watching him intently. The demon looked a little stressed, his eyebrows creasing worried lines into his forehead and his lips pursed in a straight line. They watched one another, blinking and staring for what felt like hours.

“How are you feeling?” Alfred asked softly, like he couldn’t stand the silence any longer. The unnerved and anxious look in his eyes was interesting, but unusual. Where was his smile, the friendly and easygoing expression he always had?

Arthur stirred a little bit, the tip of his tail twitching languidly. He wanted to shift closer, but felt no strength or will to. “I’m alright.” he replied in the same quiet tone. “Just...Tired. Very tired.”

Nodding faintly, Alfred squeezed Arthur’s hand gently and, almost like he sensed Arthur’s desire, he moved himself closer. Then, he tilted his head forward, resting his forehead against Arthur’s. “What kind of dreams are haunting you this way?” he asked, bringing his free hand up to gently stroke underneath Arthur’s eyes, signalling that he meant the dark circles. Something about him looked physically pained and upset.

“Camael.” Arthur responded, closing his eyes at Alfred’s touch. “I have been dreaming of death, of war and pain and chaos. I am worried because the death does not…” he took a shaky breath. “The death does not faze me anymore. But when I see Camael, leering and taunting me, I cannot...I can’t think straight. I’m scared, Alfred.”

At those words, Alfred brought Arthur even closer, almost protectively. “I know.” he said. “I can smell your fear sometimes, and if you’re scared…” he started to smile, and even let out a small laugh. Arthur felt himself physically deflate with relief at his smile; that meant he was okay. “Well, that makes me terrified. But, Artie, I, um.” he stopped awkwardly.

Arthur raised a brow. “But what?” he asked.

Pouting thoughtfully, Alfred looked away almost guiltily. “I just...I don’t like it when you don’t tell me stuff. It- it just feels like you’re lying or something.” he fidgeted, starting to blush a little. “I mean, you know when I’m scared, because I always just come up and hug you, right? But I never actually know when you’re scared. I was starting to doubt if you were actually afraid, like my nose was wrong or something. For a while I was thinking you couldn’t be afraid at all! Which I mean is cool I guess, but also a little scary. I guess what I’m trying to say is, um...I-I want you to tell me what you’re feeling. I know you really well, but I can’t read your mind.”

“Oh.” Arthur finally understood why Alfred seemed so upset before. And why withholding anything from him was a bad idea. “I’m sorry, Alfred. I was so caught up in what I was doing that I thought that this would just...Fix itself. It didn’t become a problem until recently. But I...I won’t keep anything from you anymore.” he nodded, moving his tail to find Alfred’s and twist with it.

Alfred smiled. “Good.” he said, and started to adjust himself more comfortably. “I know it’s a little early, but I want you to sleep.” Cuddling up close, he let go of Arthur’s hand to hold him tightly around his shoulders and waist. The cute little sleepy noise he made brought a small smile from Arthur as well, and he chuckled into the demon warmly.

The comfortable enclosure suddenly made Arthur realise how tired he really was, but he was hesitant to give into it. “The dreams, I won’t be able to sleep very well.” he explained, even though he closed his eyes. “I can’t-”

“Shh,” Alfred’s voice softened, and as he’d practiced several times to near perfection, he began murmuring sweet things very softly to Arthur. “It’s okay, Artie, it’ll be alright if you just relax. Just take it easy and close your eyes...I’m going to hold you and I won’t let go, not ever.” the resonance and tone was inexplicably calming, and Arthur’s eyelids became too heavy to lift. When Alfred began stroking his hair, Arthur became absolutely helpless.

His eyebrows furrowed grumpily. “What kind of...bloody magic…” he started to ask, losing track of his concentration. His body subconsciously moved closer, seeking the closest possible place to Alfred, and Alfred couldn’t help giggling quietly while he continued to soothe Arthur to sleep. “I...I can’t…”

“Shh...It’s okay to rest, we’re safe...I’ll never let...We’ll be...Shh…”

Alfred’s voice began to fade, until all thoughts ceased to continue.

O~o~O

“My- my lord, what is happening?” Feliciano asked confusedly when he fluttered inside.

The room’s orientation had altered, as the projections Camael seemed to observe endlessly had taken a spherical shape around the room. Feliciano recognised Arthur, despite the distortion of the image. His eyes flickered among the faint lights for awhile before he looked at Camael, who was looking up at Arthur with more effort than usual.

His shoulders were slumped, his hands that supported the magical images were tense and stiff. He was panting, which was the immediate cause of confusion. What was so tiring?

Camael spared Feliciano a glance, his face pale and shiny with a sheen of cold sweat. Though the room was dark except for the magic, Feliciano could see his eyes becoming a little more reflective and blue. “I am trying something new, child. Come closer, come see.” he invited, gesturing for the principality to approach. Feliciano did, albeit reluctantly, and came to Camael’s side while he explained. “The last time I visited Earth, I learned quite a lot. I visited leaders both present and past of an organisation known as the Central Intelligence Agency...Listened to their words and observed history according to them. I also visited psychologists, and they were very fascinating. I have used their theories and results and now I am attempting to put my own tests into effect.”

When he nodded to the projection to indicate he meant he was testing Arthur, Feliciano nodded, trying to mask his fear over an impassive facade. “What sort of tests?” he asked, trying to come off as curious and not frightened.

“The psychologists I read of and observed all had long and fascinating lists of things that can go wrong with the human brain. Mental illnesses and disorders, syndromes of all kinds. Some of them are even comparable to a demon’s Rage and an angel’s Sorrow! A lot of them were not natural, and come about because of external influences.” Feliciano struggled to understand any of what Camael was saying. “Some of those external influences are due in part to forms of human violence, which can profoundly affect and damage the way a victim reacts to anything for the rest of their lives. The Central Intelligence Agency uses forms of torture, which are known to cause such disorders in their experiments. I am attempting a more mild form.

“It is not physical in any way, but it is mental just like the...damage of it. Instead of doing something physical, I am cutting straight through to the psychological effect by penetrating Arthur’s thoughts. The only thing keeping the humans from doing the exact same thing to each other is their inability to use magic.” Camael’s small leer was evidence that he thought it amusing. “The effects so far have gotten worse over time. Arthur is sleeping less, becoming more irritable, dare I say more cruel, and less empathic. He gets flashes of fear every time he thinks of me, which I know because this sort of magic allows me very accurate emotional insight of what is going on in that head of his. It is very interesting.”

Feliciano nodded slowly, looking up to the projection. He smiled a little when he noticed it was Arthur sleeping, all curled up and nestled into that demon again. They hadn’t done that in awhile. “He is sleeping at the moment.” he pointed out. “What are you doing now?”

Camael closed his eyes for a moment, regaining his breath and murmuring some sort of magic effect under his breath. Feliciano didn’t pay much mind when the seraph’s halo flickered. “I’m scripting another nightmare.” he said. “I will allow him a couple of hours to rest, and then force the nightmare upon him. I do not know what he will do, so I am eager to see.”

Swallowing thickly, Feliciano steeled himself with a big breath. “It will be interesting to watch.” he hummed thoughtfully, having practiced such a level voice. He was becoming very good at masking what he really felt.

“Hmm, yes, it will.” Camael agreed pleasantly. “But...You do not have to be afraid, my child. Everything will be better without him in the way, I have told you several times, yes?”

The young angel made a choking sound, and his face went pale. Eyes flashing up to Camael in shocked question, he asked silently. How did he know…?

Camael turned his head and blinked serenely at Feliciano. “It is quite simple. This same magic I am using on Arthur allows me to sense what you are feeling. If I really wanted to, I could go deeper and listen to exactly what you are thinking, but I cannot yet do that without affecting you in a milder way that Arthur has. I trust you, so I would not do that to you.” he chuckled and ruffled Feliciano’s ginger hair.

Feliciano didn’t bother to mask his fear that time, and looked down at the floor, trying very hard to stop trembling. Not only could Camael, in theory, read someone’s mind, but he could forcibly control someone’s thoughts, as he was attempting to do to Arthur. “M-mind control.” he murmured quietly, realising exactly the amount of leverage Camael had, how much of a handle he had on Arthur, on them all.

The seraph smiled warmly at him. “Exactly.” he hissed coldly.

O~o~O

“Artie? Hey, Artie? Are you awake?”

The soft voice startled the sleeping angel, and he opened his eyes quickly, realising just how stiff he was. “Alfred?” he mumbled quietly, his eyes slowly sliding shut again. “How long have I slept?” He tried to turn over, attempting to calm his slightly panicked breathing. His skin was chilled, as he was covered in a cold sweat. Managing to relax on his side, he wrapped his feathery wings around his arms and legs.

He couldn’t feel Alfred near him, and frowned in confusion. There wasn’t a presence near him that he could sense. But he really needed the comfort, as he’d just woken up from a very troubling dream. His eyes still shut, he felt around to find the demon.

“You’ve been out for days…” Alfred’s voice hummed sadly, sounding oddly upset.

“Where are you?” Arthur asked, suddenly unable to get comfortable in the position he was in. The way his halo was oriented prevented him from resting his head properly, and the inside feathers of his wings were oddly, unnaturally cold. “Alfred?”

And then he could feel him, shifting up close. Immediately, Arthur relaxed with relief when he felt Alfred shift up above him. He started to open his eyes, only to sense Alfred suddenly shift closer. Before Arthur could ask what he was doing, he felt Alfred’s cool lips press delicately on his cheek.

Alfred pulled away very slowly and carefully, and then, as if he was suddenly ravenous for such intimacy, he leaned back down almost forcibly and started pressing kisses all over Arthur’s face.

The kisses made Arthur start chuckling faintly through his confusion. What was he doing? Arthur thought it was very cute, and wondered what had brought about this odd behaviour. Not that he minded. Alfred’s weight over him didn’t give him a sense of urgency at all, even if he was practically pinned down. “Alfre-?” he started to ask again, only for his lips to be captured in a very deep, very long kiss.

His question was cut off, but he was caught by so much surprise that any words were completely quelled and instead dragged out into a low moan. He was put in a blissful state, not understanding why and honestly not caring that much. Alfred’s lips moved over his with such determination and fervour, making use of Arthur’s every movement and reaction. It was like he knew exactly how to practically kiss Arthur to heaven. He’d shifted and tilted his head, and all Arthur could hear was the rustling of their clothes and the sheets, and all he could smell was Alfred all around him.

It went on for several moments before it finally clicked in Arthur’s head. How was Alfred so good at kissing him? It wasn’t like they had kissed this way before...Arthur tried to think of some excuse for it because it felt very good and he didn’t want it to stop, but no matter what he thought, nothing would explain why Alfred was kissing him and why it was so perfect.

Arthur had forgotten to breathe while he was thinking and pulled in a sharp breath through his nose. He tried to turn away because now that he was thinking, it wasn’t easy to breathe at all, but Alfred only moved further over him. Arthur couldn’t use his hands because Alfred had pinned his arms down.

He started to get a little worried, but he knew Alfred couldn’t overpower him, even if he wanted to. Shifting flat on his back and keeping his head turned one way, Arthur waited a moment before abruptly turning his head to face the other way while concentrating his balance and wrestling one arm from Alfred’s grip so he could cover his mouth. As he expected, the fast movement separated Alfred’s mouth from his, and when Alfred went to kiss him again, he couldn’t through Arthur’s hand.

Finally able to open his eyes and focus, Arthur gasped. “A...Alfred?” he asked the bruised face he could see. He became aware of a cold, slick feeling along his arm, and his eyes flickered down to see Alfred bleeding on him from an obscure wound. Looking at the red staining his tunic, it only then occurred to him to wonder when he switched into his angel form.

“Why did you do this, Arthur?” Alfred asked him sombrely, grabbing Arthur’s wrist with an unexpected strength and forcing his hand off his mouth. At his resistance, the demon’s frown deepened. “I thought you loved me.”

Arthur found that he couldn’t jerk away, and the dark room suddenly felt so much smaller and so much colder. Staying calm was becoming difficult. “You did this. You let the angels overrun Hell. You lied to me.” Alfred accused thoughtfully, his voice lacking any sort of emotion. “You were a spy all along. The army you organised was just your idea of a death camp for then the angels came. I thought you loved me.”

Alfred had pinned both of Arthur’s arms down with one hand, while the other was feeling all along Arthur’s torso inside his tunic. The sensation of the glove roughly rubbing his bare skin was weird and invasive, and Arthur squirmed uncomfortably. “Alfred, let go of me.” he tried to order sternly, but the large figure looming over him made him feel so small and frightened.

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like being put down, being trapped or below. But he was powerless to the demon above him.

As his breathing rose, Alfred seemed to grow angrier. “Why would you do this to me?! Did you think we weren’t already suffering?! I thought you loved me!” His voice shook and lowered into a furious growl, and Arthur could already see his eyes becoming red. The hand in his tunic suddenly had claws, and Arthur let out a startled shriek when they ripped into him without warning.

His heartbeat elevated and he thrashed and kicked out, trying to get the Raging demon off, anything to get away. Alfred held him firmly, and managed to tear up both wings and a solid bite into Arthur’s neck before Arthur finally flailed hard enough to slip off the bed and onto the floor. He struck it hard and his head hit something.

In a dizzied panic, Arthur clutched his neck and flipped over, trying to crawl away as far as he could get. The floor hurt, somehow it was freezing and it burned Arthur’s hands and knees. But, determined to get away, he kept going. He was so scared, he couldn’t make himself breathe right and the urge to just curl up and lay on the floor was overwhelming. He was shivering too hard to move straight. The useless, bleeding and featherless limbs on his back went completely numb.

Then there was a presence behind him, a cruel presence that made his blood go cold and his entire body freeze.

He couldn’t even blink when he felt it approach, breath tickling his ear. The rush of adrenaline was so intense that Arthur almost fainted.

“Did you miss me, Arthur?” Camael whispered gently.

O~o~O

A despairing screech rang out across the Cities of Hell, startling the faint breeze and wallowing tranquility. At the same time, a loud, imposing silence fell across the Kingdom of Heaven like fog, thick enough to suffocate.

Feliciano watched the dream play out, absolutely speechless. Camael had left to “sprinkle in some real fear,” as he’d put it, meaning he was prowling around hell doing Satan’s work for all Feliciano knew. From miles and miles above, Feliciano swore he could feel chilly from the sheer fear from Arthur. It was awful, and he felt awful as well. He was helpless and powerless, doing the one thing he could; stand there and shiver, watching it all play out.

He couldn’t hear anything outside, or maybe the blood was just roaring in his ears too loudly for him to concentrate on anything else. The witness of such a horrible thing would never see the universe the same way again.

When he stepped out of Camael’s damned room later, the once gorgeous Kingdom of Heaven seemed a little bit greyer.

Down in Hell, a great distance below Heaven, sleeping demons everywhere in the vicinity briefly awoke to curse the sound, thinking nothing of it. Perhaps in their minds, it was just another demon being dragged down into a further circle to suffer for his wrongs.

In that moment, Arthur was the most vulnerable that he ever had been throughout all his time alive. He was absolutely helpless, a wailing siren that practically said “I’m here! I’m right here! Come kill me, murder me brutally for your trouble, I’m here!”

Coincidentally, the only other one who could possibly be more vulnerable than Arthur in that brief moment was the demon right there with him, hopelessly trying to calm the angel.

Shaking hands attempted to soothe him, words that lacked any sort of confidence tried to reassure him. But everything the demon did only seemed to frighten the angel more.

It got to a point where Alfred was literally chasing Arthur around the room, one fleeing out of sheer fear and the other pursuing for the same reason.

Finally, the screaming was abruptly cut off in mid-shout.

Arthur had almost jumped for it off the balcony, somehow completely forgetting he had wings. He’d struggled so hard, so roughly that he had completely wrecked his own home, and did anything he could to get away from Alfred. While it tore him apart, the demon continued to chase him, yelling, begging for him to calm down. And his curse, because he was a demon by nature, was to blame himself entirely. It was all his fault.

That was why he almost couldn’t bring himself to knock Arthur out. It physically pained him to even think of it. But it was difficult. Alfred knew he wasn’t fighting to restrain Arthur anymore; Arthur was lost somewhere in his own mind, trapped even. This was a wild animal Alfred was grappling with, the same wild animal he knew so well, only now this animal knew no control or restraint or reason. This animal could probably kill Alfred without Arthur there.

The animal stumbled outside, breathing sharply and Alfred wasn’t long after him. He was careful to fall silent while Arthur ran for the railing, and then Alfred jumped up and dove for him.

Exactly like Arthur had taught him, he forced the animal to his knees and wrapped an arm around his neck firmly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Arthur,” he chanted over and over again, whispering in the animal’s ear as gently as he could while fighting the struggle. With his eyes shut tightly, he waited, counting out the seconds as the dragged on. It felt like hours, painful, gritty hours, when finally, Arthur stopped fighting and went limp in his arms.

The demon released the angel shakily, like he was shocked that he had just committed such an act. He almost forgot to catch Arthur, so he didn’t hit his head.

His screams still rang around the demon’s head, making the silence feel like it was weighing him down. “I’m so sorry…” he murmured into Arthur’s hair, scooping him up and carrying him back inside.

With a passive but evidently upset face, Alfred smoothed out the bed and gently lay the angel back down. He looked around the room, probably thinking about picking up the mess. But, he finally settled on climbing in the bed, preparing himself to retrain Arthur for however long his unconsciousness lasted.

However, when he positioned himself over Arthur, he realised something strange.

After all that trouble, there were no tears.

O~o~O

The things that Feliciano continued to watch were horrifying.

He finally figured out that Camael’s connection to the Angelicans, especially Arthur, was through their halos. Like a remote, Camael could use the halo to control what an angel thought and felt, and he was getting closer and closer to being able to use the halo to control what an angel did, too. Feliciano feared for that day.

So, after talking it over with Francis, both of them guessed that Camael’s goal was to ultimately control Arthur completely. It was a simple conclusion, and the most logical one either of them could draw from watching so much effort be put into mind control.

Both of them hoped and prayed that Arthur would be able to resist such control if they couldn’t. And then, in a meeker, less faithful prayer, both Feliciano and Francis hoped Arthur would be able to free them all.

O~o~O

The next time the angel became self aware, it wasn’t from anything he could remember.

It was rather peaceful actually, and pleasantly slow. But once he processed the slight pressure in his arms and his waist, the memories of the dreams grazed his thoughts again. His eyes snapped open and he gasped.

“Don’t move.” Alfred growled, and the pressure tightened everywhere. Arthur’s breath caught in his throat, and, with wide eyes, he started trying to struggle. The demon’s face was cold, blue eyes hard with anger. “Stay still, damn it, everything’s fine.”

Something about Alfred’s voice, low and frustrated, convinced Arthur he was dreaming again. “No, no, let me go.” he begged weakly, trying in vain to keep himself from panicking. “Al-Alfred, stop it, please, stop it-” he pleaded. But his body was failing him.

He did concede eventually, after struggling only a little. Alfred’s looming presence made his heart pound dangerously hard out of fear, and his body and mind lost all will. ‘Paranomia was broken,’ he thought, shutting his eyes tightly and awaiting pain. ‘This is what they’ve wanted all along, my surrender. And now they’ve got it.’

The cool lips upon his cheek settled it for him. This was it.

“Hey.” a soft voice alerted him, and he felt himself starting to tremble. “Artie, I’m sorry. I thought you would freak out like last time. Oh, I’m so sorry, Artie…” the arms holding him down were suddenly holding him up, cradling his quivering form.

It seemed like it wasn’t doing anything at first, because Arthur was nearly petrified with shock. But finally, he reacted. “Oh...Oh God, Alfred…” he physically sagged with relief, his shaking hands weakly grasping at Alfred. “My- my wings. I don’t know where they’ve gone. My halo is blaring, I don’t know how. R-rage…” his words dissolved into intelligible mumbles until Alfred shushed him softly.

Arthur looked up at Alfred, waiting for him to speak. “Artie, look, here are your wings.” the demon grinned at him, carefully taking one of Arthur’s delicate black wings and pulling it in Arthur’s line of sight. “You don’t have a halo right now, dude, see, you have horns. You’re a demon right now. You see your hair?” he giggled and teasingly pinched one of Arthur’s horns between his thumb and forefinger to make him feel the sensation of being moved around by the protrusion out of his head.

He appeared to notice that when he let Arthur back down on the mattress, the angel stiffened. “You dreamed about Rage, huh? I bet it was super scary. What was I doing?” Alfred asked, tilting his head innocently.

With a nervous glance down at Alfred’s position over him, and then back up to the demon’s blue eyes, Arthur swallowed thickly. “You, uh. Um. Y-you were…” he trailed off, like he was unable to stop looking down at where Alfred was.

It took an embarrassingly long while before Alfred got the hint. “...Oh.” he said quietly, frowning sadly. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Artie.”

Alfred started to move. “You didn’t actually do anything, it’s fine.” Arthur sighed, watching Alfred shift and lay beside him, not above him. “It wasn’t a normal dream. It was too eloquent, it made too much sense...Everything lined up but nothing was right, I...I was acting far too irrationally...”

“You’re telling me.” Alfred muttered to himself, but at Arthur’s ‘what was that?’ he quickly made a contemplative face. “I said that sounds weird.” he said, though Arthur had heard him.

Arthur blinked and let Alfred shift up close to him with some reluctance. “Did I...Do something?” he asked. “I don’t recall waking up at all.”

The startled expression Alfred reacted with made Arthur worried. He started to ask nervously, but Alfred shook his head. “Don’t- don’t worry about it. I’ll explain it in awhile. Tell me about your dream.”

Swallowing thickly, Arthur reluctantly let it go and tried to think of a way to put the nightmare into words. “It was here.” he murmured, glancing around. “I had just woken up and I couldn’t feel you close to me. You didn’t smell right, and when I could feel you, it just felt off. The room kept closing in on me. You, ah…” he hesitated, aware he was blushing a little bit, though he couldn’t fathom why. “You kissed me, over and over again. It got to a point where I believe you were trying to suffocate me.”

“Whoah.” Alfred’s eyes were wide.

Arthur closed his eyes, trying to think of the rest of it calmly. “When I resisted, you grew angry and accused me of lying to you. I’m not sure I understood it all, but if I remember correctly, you had described something along the lines of the Angelicans invading Hell and murdering our group because I really was their spy. You-, oh God…” Arthur sighed and shook his head, not wanting to go into too much of the sensational details. “Rage overtook you and you started attacking me. I think you tried to eat my wings or something like that. Somehow, I got away from you and fell to the floor...My wings were useless and I couldn’t move very far, I was crawling...And the-then, Camael was there. Camael had consumed you and then he was consuming me from the inside, crawling in my skin…”

Almost as if he could sense that Arthur couldn’t go on, Alfred took the angel in his arms. Arthur held him back all too eagerly. “You did wake up a while ago.” Alfred murmured in his ear, rubbing his back. “You just screamed, shrieking and screeching on and on...I couldn’t do anything. I tried everything, but when I tried to hold you down, you threw me off and started running from me.” It was then Arthur noticed the state of the place, how much of a mess it was. “We kinda wrecked everything...I guess your dream explains why you didn’t try to fly. You actually tried to jump off the balcony, but I finally managed to catch you and knock you out again.”

“I’m so sorry.” Arthur held Alfred a little tighter.

Alfred buried his face in Arthur’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Just the demon’s meek voice was enough to let Arthur know exactly how upset he was. He shifted his tail, remembering he was a demon again, and used the tip to stroke Alfred’s back.

At the gesture, Arthur felt Alfred smile sadly. “Artie...You, um. You said I kissed you? Why did I do that?” he asked curiously.

Arthur nodded. “You did kiss me. Se-several times. I don’t quite know why.” Arthur cut himself off before he could get too specific. He wasn’t sure how Alfred would react to hearing Arthur attempt to explain that Dream Alfred kept repeating ‘I thought you loved me.’

They laid in an awkward but comfortable silence after that for awhile. Arthur was too scared to try sleeping, and Alfred appeared totally lost in thought. A little embarrassed as well, Arthur wondered why love had become significant in the dream. Love wasn’t something he knew well, and he didn’t understand the perceived love in the dream at all. It couldn’t possibly be the love that already existed between them, nor the love that brothers and sisters shared. Arthur hadn’t been in Heaven long enough to learn of romance.

Watching Alfred intently, Arthur wondered what exactly he could possibly do that could make Alfred so wrought with despair as he had been in the dream. Obviously, it had been a world where Angelicans had invaded Hell, but Alfred seemed more concerned by the fact that he himself was personally betrayed.

It was making Arthur’s head hurt to try and figure it out. He settled on convincing himself that it wasn’t real and therefore he shouldn’t worry about it. “Alfred, we should clean up.” he said before he could wonder anymore.

Alfred stirred slightly, and his eyes blinked open. “Oh, sorry.” Arthur apologised; he hadn’t even realised Alfred had nodded off. “...How...How long had you been waiting for me to wake up?”

“Couple hours.” Alfred mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “We’ll clean up, and then I gotta go shower off.” he leaned into Arthur when he sat up for a moment, like a half-hearted hug, and then flapped his wings to get up.

Arthur realised that meant Alfred had been restraining Arthur for a very long time. “No, no, you go shower. I’ll clean up.” Before Alfred could open his mouth, Arthur hushed him with a look. “Alfred, you don’t need to clean up right now. You need to relax and go clean yourself up, alright? I’ll take care of all this.” He gestured around the room at all the mess, which wasn’t even all that bad anyway; there weren’t enough things in the room to make a big enough mess to worry about.

Alfred grinned a little in defeat, sensing this was a battle he wouldn’t win. “Okay. Just don’t let anything too crazy happen without me, yea?” he teased, turning around to head to the bathroom.

“Nothing will.” Arthur assured him, also turning to get busy.

He supposed angels had a thing for organising and cleaning; he made swift work of the place and even switched forms so he could use his big white wings to air out the place. A couple of things had broken, so Arthur used his magic to repair the shattered pieces. However, when he started to make the bed, he started to feel odd.

“Ow.” he muttered, immediately feeling irritated with the dull blaring pain in his head. Patting down the blankets more firmly than before, he angrily marched away from it, rubbing his head. Though, when he did that, the back of his hand brushed against the halo. With a yelp, Arthur ripped his hand away and looked down on the bright red burn mark on his skin. “The bloody hell?!”

His head felt like it was buzzing with pain, aching endlessly. Experimentally, Arthur reached up with both hands near the halo, and drew in a sharp, nervous breath when he could feel the heat emanating off of it. Were Arthur not suddenly so afraid, he would be able to figure out what to do. But fear took over him so suddenly, he was helpless to a wave of panic.

“Alfred?” he called out, his voice pitched higher than it should be. “A-Alfre-!”

In a brilliant flash of light, a heavy presence suddenly manifested in the room, imposing and majestic. Arthur stumbled, shielding his eyes and struggling to breath. Along with the light, his halo heated up even more and started to burn his head.

The bright light didn’t dim, and seemed to become larger and larger. Arthur was aware he had screamed, but something about him wasn’t actually scared. No, he wasn’t really scared. It was something about him that was scared. Upon realising this, Arthur recognised the feeling, the light from his halo, the presence all around the room. All in his head. “You,” he growled, steeling himself and coming to his feet.

He wasn’t afraid. He never had been, not to such a crippling level. “You’re the one who’s been doing this to me!” he shouted over the rushing wind that came because of the intruder. Immediately, he was punished with another wave of heat from above his head and a rush of adrenaline in his veins. It was powerful enough to make him feel like he weighed more than he did. Struggling to stand, Arthur covered his eyes with his hands. “This isn’t real! This isn’t what I really feel!”

“But isn’t it?” a voice replied from the light. Arthur knew that voice, and he snarled furiously. The tone was too calm for it to be spoken out loud. It had to be speaking in his mind. “You are afraid, Arthur, you can feel it. You can feel you primitive instincts kicking in, evaluating your chances for survival if you fought or if you fled.”

Arthur gritted his teeth and forcefully tried to swallow down what the voice spoke of. ‘It’s true, I am afraid.’ he thought to himself. ‘But not like this. I have fear, but not panic. There is a difference.’

Just as he thought that, the presence became less powerful, and Arthur realised it for what it was. “Arthur?! Arthur, are you okay? What’s going on?!” Arthur turned his head and peered through his hands to see Alfred rushing up to him. Gratefully, he accepted Alfred’s help standing, and then noticed that the light was having a bad effect on him. “What is that thing?!”

“Don’t look at it directly!” Arthur moved a wing in front of Alfred to shield him from his own halo, only that blocked off his own view of the demon too. “It’s a form of mind control! I believe Camael is attempting to control what I feel through my halo!”

Reaching up, he let out a pained yell when he slowly but firmly closed his hands on the halo. It burned, Hell, it burned like Arthur was grabbing fire. “Arthur, what are you doing?” Alfred immediately responded to his cry. “Y-you can’t just-! Arthur, that thing is really hot! I can feel it from here, isn’t that- that thing necessary for being an angel or something like that?!”

Arthur took deep breaths, trying to respond with something that wasn’t a shout of pain. He pushed his halo and tried to separate it from his head. “I don’t know!” he finally seethed. “But it-it can’t stay!”

He could feel Camael fighting him back, trying to scald him and overtake him with fear. But no amount of heat could make Arthur let go, and Arthur fought to maintain control and keep his head.

“I won’t let you control my feelings anymore,” he growled, wrestling even harder to get the halo off. “And I will no longer do as I am told! And I am no longer afraid to walk alone!” He felt Alfred’s arms reach around his wings and find his halo, grabbing it with as much force as Arthur. Together, they both jerked at it, trying to wrench it off his head.

With their combined efforts, Camael couldn’t seem to maintain his handle on Arthur. “Let me go! Let me be! I’m escaping from your grip!” Arthur yelled, feeling the presence lose its power over him. His courage surged forth, and the assurance of Alfred there with him made him feel braver than he’d ever been. “You will- never- own- me again!” With one last yank, Arthur fell backwards and the halo went flying from their grips.

Almost like a silent shriek, the presence hallowed, and dissipated altogether with the sound of the heavy band of useless metal striking the floor. It made a grinding sound as it spun, until it finally rolled to a stop.

Silence filled the space, Arthur laying on the floor in dazed shock and Alfred catching his breath while leaning on the nearest wall. “Whoah.” was all he could say, and Arthur agreed with a slight nod.

After a moment, Alfred stood up and walked over to help Arthur up. Both making sure the other was alright, they tried to laugh off what had just happened. Alfred even turned and went over to where the dull gold halo lay, picking it up curiously.

“Don’t do that.” Arthur said, feeling a faint thrill of nervousness when Alfred started waving it around to make sure it was definitely defective. In reply, Alfred stuck his tongue out at Arthur and held the halo over his own head.

Alfred giggled when Arthur rolled his eyes. “It’s dead, dude. What do you wanna do with it?”

Sighing, Arthur turned and made his way to the bed. “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”

Taking the hint, Alfred flew to set the halo on a table far from the bed, and then joined Arthur to take him into a big embrace.

That night, Arthur slept better than he could ever remember.

O~o~O

“You will- never- own- me again!” With that final cry, the brilliant lights in the room abruptly went black, encasing the room in darkness and leaving only the faint memory of dancing lights to the two angels standing there.

The darkness concealed the hesitant happiness from the smaller of the two, for he expected a cry of anger. Arthur had won! He’d overthrown Camael’s power over him and freed himself!

Only, the response he got wasn’t any less excited.

“It worked…” Camael murmured, sounding shocked. “It worked! It really worked!”

Feliciano’s smile dropped as Camael’s laughter filled the room, echoing with his delighted and triumphant shouts.

Just the sound of Camael’s victorious laughter would haunt Feliciano for several moons after that. The sound only promised the destruction, and confused him even more. It was clear that even he didn’t understand what was really happening.

“God save Arthur,” he prayed that night. “Please, oh God please save Arthur!”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoah dude XD So this chapter was pretty intense!
> 
> Can I just say that I'm so excited to have used another Muse Drones song XD AHHH I LOVE MUSE DRONES SO MUCH Like I'm actually wearing a Muse shirt right now and I didn't even realise wow
> 
> Anyway! Well, I might have mentioned it before but I decided awhile ago that every single Muse Drones song will be used in Messenger :D I love The Handler a lot because it kind of reveals how defiant and powerful Paranomia is becoming, and also gives a little bit of insight into just how crazy Camael is O.o
> 
> I'll go into more detail about Drones sometime but like last chapter I'm a little pressed for time XD Track is going really well, and as a consequence I have to be a good little athlete and get enough sleep :P
> 
> **Disclaimer, I don't own Hetalia, the Bible, Muse, Linkin Park, and the cover image was drawn by Makoyana! 
> 
> I love you guys, y'all are sweet and always encourage me to keep writing even when the people around me don't necessarily appreciate it. Thank you so much for being here for me! :D
> 
> ~Madz


	23. Gymnopédie Part One (Alfred's Innocence)

O~o~O

Oblique et coupant l'ombre un torrent éclatant  
Ruisselait en flots d'or sur la dalle polie  
Où les atomes d'ambre au feu se miroitant  
Mêlaient leur sarabande à la gymnopédie

-J. P. Contamine de Latour

Slanting and shadow-cutting a bursting stream  
Trickled in gusts of gold on the shiny flagstone  
Where the amber atoms in the fire gleaming  
Mingled their sarabande with the gymnopaedia 

O~o~O

'Change...Everything you are...And everything you were...Your last chance has arrived...'

It had been the last time.

The last time the little boy would ever feel the sweet breeze kiss his cheeks, or the sun warm his face. The last time he would hear the tinkling resonance of the harps or the soothing ambience of the hymns. The light that had guided him for his short life would never brighten his eyes again. What could have been was no more, and what was would never be again. He would never again know what it was to be listless and languid, and he would forget what it was to have mercy.

That was what time did away from Heaven, after all. Time was the cruellest punishment anyone could offer.

And yet, it sounded like the most merciful thing.

He had made his last mistake. The poor little angel would have no idea what was coming for him.

There wasn't really anything anyone could do, once they found out. The little angel had just been playing with others, when without warning the clouds around him all darkened. In that moment, his face twisted with meaningless fury and eyes blood-red, he possessed too much anger. More than any one angel was allowed to have.

As far as the archangels were concerned, such Rage could not be allowed to exist in Heaven. It was simply too dangerous; the boy posed too much of a threat, not only to himself but to all the angels around him. Had his Rage been allowed to go on, he would have been consumed in his own anger and killed by his own hatred, as God had proclaimed all those centuries ago. And he would have hurt and possibly killed all of those innocent angels around him.

It wasn't a big surprise that Rage was regarded with fear, so the gentle and kind boy was avoided and shunned. Alienated. It was such a horrible shame; the boy was nothing but sweet, except for the giant factor that he had an affliction for which there was no cure. No one would trust him or let themselves relax around the child anymore. That was why none of the other highly ranked angels felt too horribly about his punishment.

Though there were some that were convinced the boy was innocent and did not deserve to be punished; Rage was beyond anyone's control, and no one dared to see if there was any other way. Those angels were generally dismissed.

But it just stung to see such a happy, cheerful, bright boy have to suffer and not understand why.

His last steps in Heaven were taken following the two who were responsible for the sentence. It seemed he was the only one who didn't understand what was about to happen; he skipped about, gleefully playing along as if the sombre atmosphere of those ahead and those who watched didn't quite ring correctly in his mind. His ignorant bliss only made it harder.

"He has...Beautiful eyes." hummed one of the angels leading him along, quietly in case the boy heard. "I do not recall seeing such a clear hue."

Nervously, the other archangel glanced over his shoulder too peek at the little boy, who merely grinned and giggled in response. "Indeed...I did not think such a shade of blue was possible." he responded softly.

They left it at that, listening to the boy's sweet laughter as he played and frolicked along behind them. He was quite a gorgeous young angel; his white wings had feathers tipped with the colour of his hair, as if each one had been meticulously dipped in caramel. Like all angels, he was a work of art. Such beauty, however, could not stay...

As sad as it was, the archangels were bound by duty. They bravely strode on, leading the boy to his fate.

Some angels watched, the only other ones who didn't quite understand what was happening smiling and laughing themselves. They were the other children, leaving a painful burden to those who did know and could not explain.

The two archangels came upon an edge, long after everyone had decided to leave them be, and each took a heavy breath. "At least he was named before..." trailing off, one looked wistfully down at the boy, who was kneeling to play with a stray sky creature.

Nodding in agreement, the other followed his friend's gaze. "He might not remember it. W-when he..." neither really wanted to say it. It was unthinkable, abominable. The one thing that could chill an angel so deeply. That was why they were trying to reach out for the happier thoughts before there were none left.

Earlier, the boy had finally been named, for the sake of him to be able to call himself something before he...Left. The two remembered vividly, the decision as it was made. A voice, clear and brave, had called out, "Alfred!" Unusual for an angel's name, yet somehow fitting. The speaker had been an angel not much younger than the ones leading the boy to the edge of Heaven. Neither could remember his name, but the startling green eyes would stick in their minds for a long time.

Unfortunately, when all was said and done, the little angel might not actually remember his new name.

"Where are we going?"

Attentive, the little boy had stood and was watching the two archangels with his big, bright blue eyes. They twinkled, reflecting all the castles and cathedrals in the distance. It pained the two.

One sighed, and forced himself to smile. "Why, you are going on an adventure! It will be lots of fun, you will find many new people to play with!" he told the little angel sweetly, leaning down to get closer to his height.

"Indeed! You will get on well, I know you will. You are a very strong boy." the other came and patted the angel's head, almost certain his words were hollow and meaningless.

Eyes wide as halos, the angel gasped. "Really?! Are you coming?" he asked excitedly.

Both of the archangel's smiles faltered. "I am afraid not." one admitted, still plastering on a smile. "But it will be okay! You do not need either of us."

The little boy looked slightly disappointed, as his big smile faded just slightly. "Oh...Why am I going? Will anyone come with me?"

"You are going to..." the archangel hesitated, not sure how to word his explanation. He paused for a moment and looked at his friend, who urged him on with a wince. "You are going to learn how to control your Rage."

As they expected, the boy's grin fell even more, and he swallowed thickly. "...Oh." he let out, making both archangels cringe. "I...I know I made a mistake...B-but I can learn! I will control it!"

'There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface...Consuming...confusing...This lack of self control I fear is never ending...Controlling...I can't seem...'

Both the archangels believed it. There was genuine motivation and will behind that determined gaze, he truly wanted desperately to rectify his wrongs. But there was also a frantic and panicked fear that he wouldn't be able to, despite how hard the angel tried to mask it. The archangels could see that just as clearly. The poor boy was hurt, and he didn't understand what he did wrong or why no one wanted to be around him anymore. But still, he smiled. That itself made both angels frustrated, but they forced themselves to be patient. How could he be so happy in his position? What was so hard to understand?

"I-I will prove it to you! What can I do?" Alfred asked them, as if either of them knew the answer to curing Rage.

Fortunately, his childish reasoning gave them the perfect platform to introduce his punishment. The hardest part, however, was lying.

The one closer to the boy steeled himself with a huff, glancing at the reassuring look from the other. Looking back at the angel, he forced a grin. "If you truly want to redeem yourself..."

He nodded vigorously. "I do, I do!"

The archangel held up a hand uneasily, hoping to calm the little one down. "If you wish to redeem yourself, you must do exactly as I say." he tried not to let his sadness show through, hoping he looked and sounded stern. You must leave Heaven for a while to find peace. You must embrace that peace, until you know for sure you will never feel anger again. That is when the Rage will pass, and when you can return."

The little boy gulped, fear and alarm evident in his eyes. "H-how long?" his small voice cracked.

Before the first archangel could think to say anything, the other spoke up. "Not long, my child. Not long at all, you will not even feel like you have gone from home." he smiled warmly.

Surprisingly, the boy perked up. "Really?! Okay!" he fluttered eagerly to the edge, seeming to forget how far he already was from home. He looked back at the two archangels, seeking reassurance.

How painful was it, to see a boy so young and so naive on the edge of everything he ever knew, and ever would know? How could one live knowing they were responsible for the end of such an early life?

"Go now, my dear child. Seek peace below the Kingdom, and return to us once the Rage has been quelled in you." the other archangel continued when he could sense the first one was too choked up to say anything. There was relief that the little angel wouldn't need to be forced out, but there was something more heart wrenching about watching him fall of his own accord. Alfred truly believed he was coming back.

Grinning from ear to ear, the angel gave a small salute, before he faced the abyss. He looked into it bravely, took one last breath of Heaven's air, and then he jumped.

He heard a voice wail distantly, as the air rapidly blasted past him. If the speed wasn't alarming, the sheer emptiness and darkness was. Alfred couldn't see or feel anything. Except for that sole shout. It sounded like someone had screamed an apology.

He was just a little boy...

O~o~O

'I will never know myself until I do this on my own, and I will never feel anything else, until my wounds are healed, I will never be anything till I break away from me, I will break away, I'll find myself today...'

The sensation of falling was becoming difficult to handle. After a while, Alfred started to scream, feeling helpless because he couldn't control the speed at which he was falling. His wings were useless when he tried to flap them, beating futilely at the wind.

But, after tumbling through the darkness for even longer, Alfred finally realised there wasn't any point in screaming. That in and of itself was a phenomenon; at what point does an angel facing his greatest fear stop being afraid?

So he let himself fall, numb but calm as time collapsed all around him. There was nothing left for him to hold onto, and faith was slipping from his small grasp. Now that there was time to think and time to dwell, Alfred realised he had doubts.

Those doubts weren't important, right? He was to be rid of his Rage, and then he could return. It didn't have to be reasonable; Alfred just had to trust that the archangels knew what they were talking about.

So he did.

He closed his eyes and listened to the rushing wind, feeling it pass through him as he tore through the sky. Did he have to know where he was falling? Alfred didn't think he did. All that mattered was finding peace. Perhaps there would be people who could tell him where to go.

A chill went through him. The air was suddenly colder.

And through all the thoughts, Alfred somehow found himself calm enough for rest. He'd been falling for long enough now, perhaps he could handle falling some more after a small nap.

Perhaps that was what had spared him. The air got even colder, and for the first time the angel was under the view of the moon. That light didn't wake him. He made hardly a sound as he fell the last few miles, narrowly avoiding getting impaled on a rusty, jagged cross sticking high into the sky.

By some miracle, the angel landed on a pile of canvas sacks. The merciful landing didn't wake him, nor did the flickering of his halo as it fell from his head and rolled a distance away.

'Invisible to all, the mind becomes a wall, all of history deleted with one stroke...And they're breaking through...'

After a few hours, Alfred blearily opened his eyes after feeling a few cold drops, making him jolt in surprise. Almost with a chirp of delight at discovering he had landed, he stumbled to his feet and started to hurry away, before his big eyes caught onto the halo laying on the ground.

Before he could think about it too much, he was carrying his halo in one hand while walking around the damp grey streets, struggling to see. The darkness was difficult for him to peer through, even with the help of the moon.

He wasn't frightened. Rather, he was hopeful that there was someone around. Even his halo didn't concern him, it probably just lost connection to Heaven and stopped working. That was what he kept telling himself, even if he didn't really understand it.

The little angel continued to walk alone, freezing in his short tunic while he looked in wonder around the mysterious place. There was water falling from the sky, and the level on the ground never fell below Alfred's ankles. But with wretched determination, he marched on, despite how violently he was shivering from the cold rain.

As he braved the swampy city, Alfred remained unaware of the gleaming eyes watching him from high above.

Once the rain got a little less heavy, Alfred could narrow his eyes and see a little bit into the distance, and what looked like a tall, dark wall stood strong over the horizon. Alfred wondered what it could be for, since it couldn't possibly be to keep anyone from leaving. That would be just silly, and no one was that cruel.

Alfred couldn't feel his toes. His body was beginning to get tired, and he realised he must have been walking for a long time. Not like he could fly in this state. Hugging himself and hunching forward, the weary little angel couldn't manage to renew his earlier determination.

But he was here for a reason, and he would do whatever it took to get back home. He whispered that promise to himself, his teeth chattering.

'I don't know how I got this way, I know it's not alright, so I'm breaking the habit, I'm breaking the habit tonight...'

When Alfred felt like he was just about to collapse and have to crawl in the murky water, three shadows emerged and stood in front of him. He blinked at them in confusion at first, until he realised they were people. Definitely not angels, but they were people.

"Hello!" he greeted cheerfully, unaware of how much of a mess he looked. His tunic was completely soaked and would never again be white. His feathers weren't white either, instead splashed with grey and brown. His legs had mud all the way up to his knees.

The way the light hit them, and from the angle he was at because of his short height, Alfred couldn't see their eyes. They leered down at him. "Hello, little one." the middle one purred. "Tell me, what is an angel such as yourself trudging around a treacherous place such as this? Are you lost?"

Alfred tilted his head. "I do not think I am lost." he pouted thoughtfully, looking at all three of them. "I am searching for the place that can find peace. When I do that, the angels said I can come back to Heaven!"

Tilting his head, the middle one knelt down in the mud in front of Alfred. Now his pale, sleek face was in the light. "Well," he started, chuckling too much to say anything at first. "This is the last place you would find peace. I can tell you that much. Why did the angels send you down here to find peace? Don't you know where you are?"

Instead of answering, Alfred stared, eyes wide with wonder at the creature before him. "I like your..." he trailed off, reaching a hand forward to touch one of the black protrusions from the man's head. "I like your halos. They are different from mine." he grinned, and held up his dull gold halo to the man.

On all three of them, then, Alfred noticed those halos, black wings, and a tail. He wasn't quite sure why they were laughing, but he found himself giggling too.

"Will you play with me?" he asked them once they had all quieted.

Somehow, he convinced all three of them to play with him in the rain. He taught them games when they didn't know what he was talking about. They laughed when he slipped and fell after skipping about enthusiastically. He danced and pretended, coming up with wild worlds and soulful fantasies that sometimes intrigued the three. They played along with him.

"Where did that come from?" asked one of them when Alfred invented a made-up castle.

"My head," he answered the man, as if it were obvious.

There was something about the way that the three men watched Alfred that made the angel curious; they kept sharing wide, toothy grins, and their laughter did not sound the same as his. Sometimes they scoffed when he added in some other rule to the game, and a lot of the time they sneered at him. But it didn't really make Alfred think anything bad. They were just new to playing, so he was going to teach them!

He even made up some new games that were hopefully easier to understand. They never contributed to the worlds and roles Alfred set up, and Alfred wondered if it was because they just didn't have any imagination. He pitied them for that.

So, for awhile, the men continued to humour him while he wandered down the streets. The rain didn't bother him as much, now that there was company. But it was still really cold and he wished one of them would notice and hug him to keep him warm. But, he reasoned, if they didn't have any imagination, how could they have consideration like angels did?

Alfred was tempted to teach them about consideration too, until his hand brushed against the hand of one of the men. His skin was even colder than the chilly breeze.

He decided not to try after that.

The water climbed up his shins, and he started shivering so hard that his voice was shaking while he described a new world to the men.

"...But there is a large beast that prevents us from reaching the other side! But together we can pull through and defeat it! Ah..." Alfred noticed the men were murmuring amongst each other. "W-well, I suppose it is getting late. Perhaps we should stop playing?" he suggested tiredly to them, rubbing his eyes with a numb hand.

The middle man nodded in agreement, his grin widening. "I agree. I think it's time we talk about something more serious." his expression darkened.

Alfred tilted his head to show he was listening, but he was huddled in on himself so tightly it looked like his knees were about to give. "I'm afraid you've walked into a dangerous place. If it's any consolation, I'm sure someone misses you."

"I do not understand." Alfred giggled when the man smirked.

"What I'm saying is...This is no place for angels."

It became clear quite quickly that Alfred wasn't going to understand. He couldn't. His mind just wasn't capable of it. But he would eventually come to terms with it. The men all stood around him, and he felt safe. These were his friends. They had played with him and kept him company in this big, unfamiliar place. They made him happy and he hoped he made them happy in return. Maybe with them he could find peace. Alfred thought with their help, he could cure his Rage and return to where he belonged in Heaven. It just seemed so obvious that they were the answer after they were so kind to him.

Well, demons will be demons.

Before Alfred could process what was happening, he had been thrown to the ground and ravaged, claws and fangs ripping into him at all angles. Initially, he was in shock, but his nerves finally started working and he screamed in agony.

Where had he gone wrong? Why were these men hurting him? Alfred had never known pain before, not like this. He wailed and sobbed, digging his heels into the hard stone ground and arching his back with every infliction. He could feel every new thing, every claw breaking his skin, every fang taking a piece of him. His insides spilled from him and the murky water went from a mindless grey to a sickening maroon. The rain only stung then.

The three demons were starving, having not eaten for years. That night they feasted on a mere child who had so graciously wandered into their territory after being sent down from above. They didn't share either; they took what they could, and after they'd had their fill, they left him. On his back. Alone. Gouged out and dying in the cold rain.

Time passed like it was swimming through molasses. The life left Alfred's once clear blue eyes like the blood left his body. The demons had been messy eaters, and various organs were scattered around him. If Alfred could touch his chest, he could feel his heart giving out, pulsing weaker and weaker. He didn't have working lungs anymore, so his heart wasn't sure what to do. It couldn't function anymore. Neither could his mind.

Thoughts were fading in and out, none of it could give an answer. He was even beyond wondering anymore.

His eyes were still open as the last sign of life trickled away, one last rattling breath, one last weakened pulse, one last tear sliding down a maimed face. The breath wasn't even strong enough to make a visible cloud in the cold air. His eyes stared blankly at the gruelling sky above.

'I'll feel my heart implode, and I'm breaking out, escaping now...Feeling my faith erode...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sounds of sobbing in the back* I'M OKAY I PROMISE
> 
> So XD This, um, wasn't really a chapter, but it is part of the Messenger universe. Alfred's origins, I'll call it? It will be in three parts, but not in succession. As you can probably gather, it's based off of Erik Satie's Gymnopédies. The three pieces are gorgeous and sad, and basically the classical version of what we can ambient music today. I'm pretty sure these pieces are part of where the genre came from XD Anyway, I wanted to experiment with a different kind of music in Messenger to introduce where Alfred came from. I do love me some classical music :D Next chapter we'll get right back to Paranomia!
> 
> (Psst I used a Youtube link that lasts an hour because the actual piece is like three minutes long XD So to have the sadness last while you read, I put up this one~)
> 
> To explain a little bit, Alfred was cast out of Heaven because of his Rage. This was long before he meets Arthur, though if you squinted, you might've seen Arthur in there ;) So, because Rage could potentially have killed other angels or himself, Alfred is sentenced to live out the rest of his life in Hell. His sin, as the archangels put it to be formal, was anger. That, logically, means he should get sent to the fifth level of Hell according to Dante's Inferno. In the Messenger universe, the levels of Hell are called circles, so technically the fifth circle of Hell XD
> 
> Arthur and Alfred are in the first circle, which is where the people who don't accept Christ are sent. The famous philosophers we all know and love are there. There is no real "punishment" in the first circle, which is why there is such a concentration of organised demons there. But it's not Heaven. The reason Alfred is there in the first place will be explained throughout the next two pieces :P
> 
> So Track has gone well I guess :D I made it to Regionals, and now it's time to see if I can make it to State! I actually wouldn't have updated because of that, but...Well yesterday, the Twenty-second of April, was Messenger's birthday! I almost missed it XD So this thing has been around for a year now physically, not just in my head :) Just something that I think is nice :D
> 
> I hope y'all are doing alright, life's been pretty good over here :D School will let out pretty soon, and my summer is gonna be awesome! I hope you guys are doing just as well :)
> 
> So I'm not sure when I'll update next, but it definitely won't be this sad XD 
> 
> **Disclaimer! I don't own Satie's music, Muse, Linkin Park, Dante's Inferno, or the Bible :D
> 
> Until next time! 
> 
> Can anyone guess what the random italicised parts are? ;)
> 
> ~Madz


	24. Uprising

O~o~O

The demon commanders were growing tense.

They had heard whispers and murmurs, hints that Paranomia had been spying among them from soldiers in nervous, hushed conversations and darting eyes as if they were afraid the green-eyed devil would suddenly materialise before them. Indeed, the defector had sparked a brief scare in the entire Demonocratic army.

To make it an easier thing to handle, the commanders collectively referred to their unspoken fear as Paranomia Paranoia.

The ones of the highest ranks had the luxury of private rooms, offices if you will. Sometimes they would gather there in groups, shut the door to the small room and lock it, and then express their fear in quick, secretive bursts. None of the other demons could be allowed to see their higher-ups go completely mad with terror in moments like those, of course. It would suggest weakness. So they all swore to secrecy, promising to keep quiet about these times.

Little did they know, that in those moments when they could let down their guard and admit their fears to one another, they weren’t always alone.

Sometimes, they would hear faint, dark chuckling resonating in the halls after they left, sending chills through their spines. They forced themselves to think it was just their imagination, but some part of them couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

And they were being watched, naturally. It was quite amusing, really, how all these big demons with their fancy, decorated uniforms, and their cold, serious demeanours could put so much trust in a single steel bolt to protect them from their biggest insecurity, whilst remaining unaware that they had locked themselves in a room with that very insecurity present himself.

O~o~O

The Demonocracy had decided to make its move.

Arthur knew the time to test the group had been coming, so he wasn’t unprepared. He just hadn’t expected the sheer amount of Demonocratic soldiers to show up in his lone, dark alleyway. There had to be hundreds, all armed to the teeth and strategically placed for optimal defence.

They all arrived silently, but landed heavily because of the amount of metal they carried. The dull marching sound filled the enclosed space, it’s tentativeness evidence that they were afraid. Steps into the large alcove were slow and cautious, despite the soldiers most likely having been briefed on exactly what to do countless times. They were hesitant, almost shy. It wasn’t long before their steps became uneven, not quite breaking formation but allowing themselves to be curious.

Movements were skeptical, the demons surely wondering why the alleyway was completely deserted.

The question of how exactly they had found this place would need to be answered later, but Arthur was almost sure it was because the gatherings hadn’t exactly been strictly secret; surely anyone would notice a large gathering of demons in such a small place over the period of time that they had been. It didn’t matter. They were ready to handle it.

He watched them calmly from above, perched in the furthest corner in the shadow just before the top of one of the buildings the alley was in between. They wouldn’t be able to see him unless he shifted up, because even the dull light of the moon was enough to catch his bright red hair. Gripping the stone lightly with one hand, he poised himself easily as if he were a mere fly who’d landed upon a wall, and observed without a sound. His other hand was held in a loose fist. He appeared to be alone in his hiding, but he was far from it.

Alfred was nowhere to be seen, though he knew the demon was doing exactly as he’d been told.

As if on cue, a familiar voice rang out, making Arthur’s smirk widen. “Hey, uh, guys? Where do you think he is?”

Some of the soldiers jumped in alarm, and broke formation briefly, some appearing to sag in relief at knowing they weren’t the only ones that were afraid. Arthur had to stifle a chuckle at their reaction, and at how several more demons slipped seamlessly into the army in discreet places.

Conversations began in soft murmurs, genuinely practical ones about uncovering Paranomia’s whereabouts. Most of them were initiated by the ones with inconspicuous green sashes around their waists. From so high up, Arthur couldn’t recognise any of them, and he knew even up close it would be difficult to pick them out. Most of them had dark dust marking their face, evidence of active participation in the Demonocratic objective. The soldiers didn’t even seem to notice the additions, most likely too frightened to notice anything wrong.

Arthur listened to them serenely, watching all of them creep and poke about the place. To the army, the alley looked desolate, as if it hadn’t been touched in months. The two commanders present even looked puzzled, and glided around themselves instead of hanging back like they normally would for this type of procedure. Having been...around them so much, Arthur knew that they wouldn’t have landed with the army unless they were sure it was safe. And Arthur was in no hurry to ruin that.

He was pleased to notice the commanders were Phobos and Deimos, the two who had been throwing everything they had at Arthur while he was still involved with the army. He knew many more commanders by now, but something about it being those two in particular made it that much more satisfying for Arthur.

It wasn’t long until the caution had let up almost completely, and the demons invading wandered freely about the place without any mind of potential danger. Though it was a little earlier than Arthur wanted, he didn’t mind waiting.

Patiently, he waited until the moon cast such a perfect ray that the entrance to the alley was swathed in complete darkness. It was wide open, but the shadow made the illusion that the space had been closed off. Naturally, he noticed a lot of the army shift further within his territory, subconsciously wanting to avoid the perceived barrier.

Perfect.

With a predatory gaze down at the army, he could see the green belted demons preparing as well. All he had to do was give the signal.

Pressing a kiss to his gloved fist, Arthur then let it open, and blew gently into his palm. That and the faint breeze caught onto the delicate, torn remains of a light green silk, which could be recognised as the same as the belt several demons were wearing. Arthur knew only a few would notice it, which was why it was the best signal to use.

He knew for a fact the demon that mattered the most to him would be watching for it carefully. As he expected, he soon heard Alfred’s voice from the middle of the army. A startled yelp, and then a loud “Mmmph!”

Arthur grinned. Alfred had been working on his acting.

At the sound of distress, several demons turned to see him fall to the ground, a piece of red tape slapped over his mouth and the same red tape binding his wrists. Alfred was yelling, struggling against an invisible force, and soon the same thing was happening to a couple more of the green belted demons at uneven intervals.

Like dominos, the panic spread and the army went into a frenzy.

“Paranomia is here!” they yelled. “He is among us! Find him! Where is he?” Some started to get jumpy, looking around wildly. Others tried to free the green belted demons from the red tape. The ones like Phobos and Deimos were clutching their weapons close to them, as if knives and metal poles were their only consolation for being faced with Paranomia.

Arthur then made his move, letting himself fall from the wall and glide deftly over them, unnoticed in the darkness. He supposed it was cheating for him to use his magic to create a chill as he flew past, and to amplify his voice as he spoke, but no one had to know that.

“I see you have come to visit me.” he murmured thoughtfully, his words acting as a silencer for all panicking below him.

They still couldn’t see him, the Demonocrats whipping their heads around wildly like flags flapping in the wind because they couldn’t determine where his voice was coming from, as it had bounced off all the walls. The green belted demons continued their struggle against the red tape that they had trapped themselves in, until they had been freed by other demons around them. Some of them had sneakily trapped demons without belts, but had made it so they couldn’t escape without help from another, who would have to disarm himself first. The silly soldiers had rendered themselves practically immobile with the amount of weapons they carried.

Grinning, Arthur crossed his arms and hovered high above them. The moon still allowed for a dark shadow to conceal him, so he could use his illusions to further the panic knitted neatly into the invading party. “How considerate of you to think of me during these dark times. Though, you should know I don’t take kindly to uninvited guests...” he murmured lowly, his voice resonating deeply and thinly and loudly and quietly, physics making all sorts of effects take place. It sounded like he was swimming through them, like a ghost taking his time haunting the crowd.

Some scattered, and, as he thought, they tended to go for the deeper area of the alleyway instead of their clear route of escape that was shrouded by the moon’s cold shoulder. Even Phobos and Deimos were backing away further in the trap, their subconscious just as vulnerable as anyone else’s to fear. It was just as Arthur expected, if not more. Only a few realised the one route of escape, but even they were too panic-stricken to think to tell everyone else.

Arthur waited until the majority of the demons were bound by tape, and chuckled lowly at how they still didn’t seem to realise he wasn’t the one trapping them. How long did it have to go on before they noticed it was the demons with the green belts?

He decided not to let them know that.

“Now,” he murmured, flying closer to the stumbling crowd, stumbling away from where his voice resonated. “You have a choice. I could...Kill you here, sparing you from a death further on, probably on the front lines. You know how it is. Angels and demons collide, inevitably there will be death.” Arthur landed and shrugged, rubbing his chin as he was revealed to them. He stepped into the moonlight, not unaware of the collective gasp. Surely, the mere image of him, pale skin, red hair, green eyes, scared the hell out of them. Just as Arthur thought he was being full of himself, he opened his eyes to see expressions of sheer horror. Not too far off, after all. “Or,” he added carefully, letting his accent drag out the word. “Or, I could spare you from my hand, and let you go to warn the others. You know who I speak of, the others in your army.” he grinned, approaching them and watching serenely as they continued to back away.

Making a show of the offer, like the subject was a game, Arthur held out his arms and raised his eyebrows. “Your choice! End it later or end it now, it makes no difference to me.”

One right behind the other, Phobos and Deimos were brought to him, Ludwig and Ivan hauling them forth. Kicking their knees, the two green belted demons forced the commanders to kneel, while Arthur leveled them with just a stare. His chin raised, he didn’t even look remotely surprised to see them.

They glared, oh they scowled as best as they could with the rope tied their mouths. But all they got was an amused smile from Arthur. “Before you make your choice,” he continued, talking to the others of the army and ignoring the commanders. “Allow me to explain.”

That was when the army finally realised they were surrounded on all sides. Above, in front, and there was no behind. Arthur could barely hold back a grin at the different expressions that played across their faces once they figured it out. And they couldn’t even fight back because they had no idea how many there were. He wouldn’t have said it, but the Demonocrats greatly outnumbered his own, which was why he was glad Demonocratic soldiers could hardly recognise their own.

“All this time, you have all served loyally to your army. I would assume so, anyway, seeing as you’ve all come here to capture me. Quite an admirable effort, really.” at his words, he paced back and forth in front of the commanders, until Alfred fluttered forward. With a quiet snicker at the Demonocrat’s frightened and eager nods, he joined Arthur up front and leaned casually against his shoulder. Arthur spared him a small, genuine smile, before returning to leering at the army before him. “Perhaps you should consider questioning the reasons for which you have come here. Did it never occur to you to...Wonder why, exactly, you take orders and follow them?”

He was confusing them. They watched the pair up front skeptically, and both Arthur and Alfred shared a knowing look.

Opening his mouth, Arthur smirked with his arms crossed. “The paranoia is in bloom,” he hummed thoughtfully. “Your superiors have lied to you with their silence. They have kept you dumbed down by feeding you with hatred, which acts as a sort of drug that keeps you from seeing the truth. They give you promises, make scenes out of battles with the Angels, when really…”

Trailing off, Arthur signaled Alfred with a jerk of his head. With a pleasant grin, Alfred nodded, and stalked forward to the commanders.

“All they’re trying to do is get green belts wrapped around our minds…” As Arthur continued, Alfred untied the silk from his waist and promptly tied it around Phobos’s head, just enough to cover his eyes. “...And use their endless red tape to keep the truth confined.” Just as Ludwig tied his belt around Deimos’s head, both he and Alfred untied the ropes around the commander’s mouths only to put red tape over them, making the tape shape into a neat ‘X.’

Now unable to see or speak, the commanders both began to growl lowly, from deep in their throats. Arthur moved forward silently, coming around behind them and carding his hand through Deimos’s dark, coarse hair. Such a demeaning gesture made the demon’s growling reverberate loudly, aggressively. Glancing down approvingly, Arthur then looked up to the trembling army, who watched their leaders be humiliated with slight horror.

“Now, what do you say we change that?” he asked with a sneer.

O~o~O

“You wouldn’t have actually killed them, right?”

After a long period of silence during the flight, the sudden question mildly startled the group. Arthur looked over to Alfred flying along beside him. Ivan, Basch, Ludwig, Yao, and Elizaveta were with them, heading to the Nkri Graveyard to check for any changes. They were all rather fatigued from their little skit towards the Demonocrats, but they had been the ones to volunteer to go with Arthur, so he trusted they would be well enough to make it there and back.

At first, Arthur wasn’t sure what Alfred had meant, but then he remembered his chilling threat towards the invading troops. “You have a choice. I could...Kill you here, sparing you from a death further on, probably on the front lines. You know how it is. Angels and demons collide, inevitably there will be death. Or, or, I could spare you from my hand, and let you go to warn the others. You know who I speak of, the others in your army.” Arthur returned his gaze up front with a heavy sigh, unsure of how to answer.

With only the sound of wings flapping, Arthur could still feel all of the demon’s stares, all of them watching him with curiosity. Of course, the answer would mean more to Alfred than any of them, as the rest of them didn’t know he was an angel. Him killing wouldn’t have been as significant to them. Regardless, they all still wanted to know.

Finally, he let out a heavy breath, but hesitated to answer. “I don’t know.” he murmured quietly.

Alfred gave him a look that Arthur only caught from the corner of his eye, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. It looked slightly shocked and almost afraid.

No one breathed a word for the rest of the trip, and Arthur felt oddly like it was because they were too nervous to. It confused him to no end.

Even when they finally got to the graveyard, they seemed to shy away from him just slightly. Arthur tried to ignore it and instead focus on keeping himself warm over the sudden chill. This place seemed to be colder than the city, which was odd. But, when the other demons had turned their backs, Alfred approached him and quickly rubbed his arms to keep him warm.

“Thank you.” he muttered lowly to him, walking past Alfred when Ivan started to turn around. As he strode forward, the others began to turn to look at him as well, awaiting orders. Arthur met eyes with all of them. “Let’s go. Check around for any odd patterns. Last time I was here, the rock the demons’ graves are on were brittle, so be careful not to disturb them too much.”

At his instructions, they all split up in different directions. The place was huge, after all, and Arthur suddenly was grateful he had all of them with him, otherwise he might never get through the entire place.

All was quiet for a while. Arthur flew up high, towards where the higher-ranked and leveled angels and demons were buried. Elizaveta wasn’t far away; she was picking at a place with a thin layer of fog slightly below a sort of cliff made by clouds and jagged rock. He thought nothing of it, and got to work looking at the gravestones.

Arthur walked past with a respective air, quietly acknowledging the names of the fallen and briefly coming to a state of sonder by each one. He always did; even after all of his time as a demon, he never could forget what had been so deeply ingrained into him for years. He had learned to feel so much and be able to process it all. The only thing was, he was beginning not to feel everything so deeply. With each name, he was not plunged into a universe so distinct and new from the one he knew. He simply gazed into the power of potential and then let it go. It was like he was simply unconcerned anymore, and Arthur wasn’t quite sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

He sighed, accidentally passing a few graves without actually reading the names. He tried to direct his attention to them again, only to narrow his eyes. His slow stepping came to a halt in front of one grave. The name just read Mark. That wasn’t what Arthur was concerned with; instead, he slowly turned and approached the slab of white marble, until he was close enough to touch it.

His finger delicately traced the top of the grave, and behind it, was left a trail of pure white, the actual colour of the stone. Arthur looked at his gloved finger and observed the pale grey dust.

“That’s odd.” he murmured to himself, brushing off his hand. Whenever he’d come here, there was never even a speck of dirt on any of the graves.

Just then, he heard a loud rumbling noise and a startled yelp to go with it, and he whipped his head up. “Elizaveta?” he called, jumping up and taking flight. Flapping his wings urgently, he turned around a corner to where he last remembered seeing the demon. “Elizaveta?! Are you alright?!” he couldn’t see; the area she’d been in was completely filled up with dark grey dust. He assumed the cliff she’d been near had collapsed, which made him wonder how brittle exactly the rock had gotten at this point.

He flew in, shielding his eyes from the thick clouds of dust and looking around for Elizaveta. “Oi, where are you? Elizaveta-?”

“I’m here! I’m here, I’m fine…” he heard Elizaveta answer and he turned in the direction of her voice. He finally discovered her trying to stand and brushing bits of rock off her. Arthur landed and immediately helped her up, making sure she wasn’t injured. “N-no, really, I’m fine, I-”

“Look at me.” Once Arthur was done checking her over, he looked into her eyes, gently taking her forearms to keep her steady and close. “Did you hit your head? Your eyes look alright. Are you hurt anywhere? Take a deep breath, alright?”

She complied, taking a slow, shaky breath in, and then letting it out. “I…” she swallowed thickly. “I think I’m okay. I’m just a little startled. That’s all.” she managed a weak smile at him.

Arthur nodded along with her, and then turned to lead her out of the area. “Let’s go, then, before something else happens. This isn’t good, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to find out. If you’re okay, we can keep going, but I’d rather you stayed with someone. Even if it’s me, I don’t care, as long as you’re safe.”

Elizaveta cast him a wry look. “What, you think I can’t take care of myself?” she asked.

“Er, no, that’s not it at all.” Arthur frowned. “I think you’re very capable. It’s just, well, I don’t think I could afford to lose you, and you’re female, so-”

That was the wrong choice of words. She had only been teasing, he realised, but now there was a slight flash of resentment in her eyes just from hearing that. “Yes, I am female.” she said slowly, once Arthur fell silent at his mistake. She started shrugging off his hands, and walking herself. “I thought you of all people could respect that.”

He could see her anger and wanted to cringe. However, he didn’t have time to rectify it before he heard a low rumbling. Both of them froze, eyes locked in fear.

Then, they both looked up, where they could barely see through the settling dust, the rest of the cliff was finishing its collapse.

Arthur was the first to react. “RUN!” he yelled, grabbing her hand and taking off, both of them fleeing in a clumsy frenzy. He was calculating, trying to figure out the best way to escape, but every option led to them getting crushed because the distance to safety was too far for them to make it in time. So he just tried to go as fast as he could.

Unfortunately, Elizaveta was still mad at him. “I can fly myself!” she snapped at him, taking her hand away. Arthur then conveniently remembered he was actually an angel, and could fly a lot faster than she could, regardless of biological advantages. He cursed.

There wasn’t anything he could say to her while they were flying, so he forced himself to slow down to keep pace with her, but he wanted nothing more than to grab her and get the hell out of there. The giant cliff seemed to fall faster and faster, catching them off guard.

Distantly, Arthur could hear unintelligible cries from the others for them, wondering what was going on. He didn’t waste his breath trying to warn them because he trusted their judgement, but he did risk a look over his shoulder.

Of course, a boulder big enough to crush the both of them was headed in their projected direction. Arthur let out a slightly louder curse. It was chaos, but he fought for a way to think as clearly as possible. Something drove him to drop back behind Elizaveta slightly, and then maneuver above her so he could get a grip under her arms and fly her along faster.

She tried to squirm at first, and Arthur couldn’t quite hear himself over the loud rumbling but he must have said something a little harsh about being ridiculous in a life-or-death situation because she stilled and let him lead her. He took a chance and changed direction a little, just to be out of the path of that big boulder. Along the way, weaving through falling rocks, Arthur got hit and he tried to do his best to protect Elizaveta. The rocks that hit him almost sharply knocked him off balance, but Elizaveta helped keep him up, even when he let out a grunt at getting hit in the back.

Elizaveta probably realised they were going a lot faster and worked with him, trying to up their speed by adding her own. When they worked together like that, it wasn’t long before the dust cleared and Arthur guessed it was safe to slow down. He turned around to check, and didn’t see anymore flying stones.

Not unlike the cliff, they both collapsed on top of a cloud, skidding a slight distance. They held still for just a moment, both trying to process the excitement. Arthur finally let Elizaveta go, and they both lay there, panting for a moment to recover.

They finally found the energy to at least look at each other, and at first it was just a blank stare, but soon they were both laughing a little. Arthur knew they were both breathless and shaken, but they were laughing.

“Elizaveta.” he coughed, getting her attention. “About what I...What I said earlier. I am sorry. Yes, you are female, but I don’t think any less of you. The urge to, ah...To help you more and protect you, is just that; an urge, or an instinct rather. I think all males feel that towards females.” he tried to explain, wincing when he shifted and felt a scrape on his shoulder sting.

As if on cue, whether it was for the better or worse, Elizaveta opened her mouth to warn him of something, something coming fast, and suddenly Arthur found himself diving on top of Elizaveta and getting nailed in the back with a rock the size of his head.

A moment passed of him seething in pain while looking down at his chest and Elizaveta staring up at him, stunned. “...Like that?” she asked quietly, and Arthur answered with a grimace and low groan.

“Hey! Arthur, Elizaveta, are you alright?” Ludwig and Basch appeared in front of Arthur, and Ivan was close behind them. They all started to check them over, and tried to get Arthur on his feet.

Before they could help him up, Arthur waved them off as best as he could and mumbled for them to check if Elizaveta was alright first. He couldn’t quite hear their replies, instead trying to focus on breathing slowly and calmly. He felt he couldn’t show that he was hurt, he couldn’t show them vulnerability like this. He had to be the strong one, and it didn’t even occur to him to wonder why he felt that way.

Luckily, before he had to worry too much about it, a familiar scent enveloped his nostrils and he heard a familiar voice to go with it.

He looked up to see that Yao had joined the other three demons who were helping Elizaveta, and, still on his hands and knees, he turned his head to see Alfred looking over his back in concern just beside him. “You okay, Artie?” Alfred asked him quietly, so the others wouldn’t hear.

“Don’t call me Artie.” Arthur muttered, earning a relieved smile. Alfred knew he was okay when he got a little defencive. “I think I’ve been hit on my back more than once.”

Alfred’s smile faded slightly, and with a little more urgency than before, his eyes flitted over his back while a hand gently felt for injuries. He must have found more than he’d hoped, because Arthur noticed his eyebrows crease. “This doesn’t look good. There aren’t any tears in your jacket, so I can’t heal you without taking off your uniform. But I can feel swelling.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You know I don’t care if you take off my uniform. Though, the others might. I’m not sure we can get away without making them suspicious.”

Beginning to help him to his feet, Alfred let out a quiet sigh. “Yea, but...I care if I take off your uniform.” he mumbled. “I’m not used to see-seeing you, uh, you know…” he trailed off, saying something inaudibly. Arthur swallowed back a yelp of pain once he was standing, and stared right at Alfred’s chest so the other demons wouldn’t see his wide eyes.

At Arthur’s silence, Alfred shifted uncomfortably. “I think we could get the others to help if you’re really hurt. Are you okay?”

“No, I’m fine!” Arthur snapped quietly. “We can’t tell them I’m hurt.” he tried to glare, but the effect was ruined when the fast movement of looking up at Alfred caused a lightning bolt of pain to jolt up his spine, making his expression twist with pain.

Alfred narrowed his eyes slightly. “Now’s not the time to be prideful, Artie.” he argued, but then appeared to realise what he’d said might have been the wrong thing. “U-uh, I mean it wouldn’t be the end of the world to tell them something’s wrong…?” he grinned nervously at Arthur’s scowl.

Letting out a sigh, Arthur shook his head with a pained wince. “It just...No. I can’t tell them.” the other demons were still talking amongst themselves, but were starting to glance over in their direction curiously. Elizaveta appeared to be fine, uninjured at least. She gave Arthur a look as if to ask if he was alright, and he nodded to her.

The argument wasn’t going to turn out any other way. “Alright, fine.” Alfred huffed, but he was smiling. “C’mon, we’ll slip away for just a bit and then we’ll come back to finish up.”

They both headed away discreetly, Arthur limping and Alfred making sure no one saw them leave. Meandering about, they took a complicated path to a dark, well masked place where the clouds were too thick for them to be easily spotted. Almost immediately after they found the place, Arthur easily took off his jacket and shirt and let Alfred heal him up.

When they finally returned, no one seemed to have missed them. Ivan and Ludwig were discussing something with Basch, who was pointing at a gravestone while Yao and Elizaveta were taking a closer look. In fact, they barely looked up to acknowledge the two.

Alfred looked curious as to what was so fascinating, but Arthur had a good guess. “A thin layer of dust is covering all the graves, angels and demons alike. I don’t recall it being like this before.” Ludwig was saying. “Something strange has happened here, someone has desecrated this place.”

“Maybe not just someone.” Arthur supplied. “A whole cliff just collapsed. Perhaps the dust is evidence of it happening before? I doubt this could all be the work of one person. It has to have been a group, or it could be the Graveyard itself reacting to something. Shrines like this can be sensitive to events; perhaps something is causing it to destroy itself.”

Arthur could almost see the lightbulb go off in their heads.

Basch nodded slowly. “I forgot about the possibility of magic. This is graveyard is a mix of demons and angels, there’s bound to be more magic here than what we see in Hell.”

And he was right. Arthur could feel all the magic pulsing through the Nkri Graveyard, both light and dark. There was definitely a notable change from the amount of magic he usually felt.

They all shared understanding nods with one another for a moment. “Y’all don’t think there’s much we can do for it, then? I mean, this place is where angels and demons could potentially meet in peace, right?” Alfred asked curiously. “That is, if there were ever a need to.” Arthur remembered with a slight pang of sadness how happy he’d been when they originally found this place, where he first realised he had an ally, too. He looked around sadly, wishing absentmindedly that recent events hadn’t troubled the graveyard so much. But, he supposed, at the moment, his anger towards the angels was too much for him to be willing to be diplomatic.

Elizaveta and Yao joined the group, who’d gone silent in thought. But Arthur eventually murmured, “Perhaps it’s for the best.”

O~o~O

The military base had quite a time after the attempted invasion on Paranomia’s territory.

After the failed attack, the Demonocratic soldiers acted odd and rebellious towards Phobos and Deimos, and by the time they had flown into the base, the two commanders were holding back a riot. They struggled to fly and keep the soldiers in line, but it became more and more clear that the attempts were futile. It escalated so much that no amount of authority could hold them back. All twenty commanders couldn’t manage to unite their strength enough to contain them.

Something Paranomia had said had inspired something in them, some resisting spirit that had long ago been put to sleep when they were enlisted. The defector’s words awoke the monster that was resistance. The demon’s power to defy and to disobey was simply too much for the higher ups, and their sheer anger and resent led them to destroy everything in their path.

The commanders could only watch as the base burned, echoing with defiant screeches and collapsing where the demons gutted the building.

“This is just unfair.” Deimos muttered, crossing his arms while they all hovered high above the destruction. “This isn’t- this isn’t how you fight a war.”

Phobos and a few others looked at him, startled after regarding the base for such a long period of silence. “What do you mean?” Phobos asked, furrowing his brows.

Deimos opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by chuckling. Every single eye turned towards the amused commander, seeming simultaneously curious as to what was funny and angry that he could be laughing at a time like this. He was the tallest of commanders, the most easygoing and arguably the most frightening because of that.

Julius shook his head, gazing mirthfully over the remains of the base. “Commander Deimos means this isn’t just any sort of revolt, this is Paranomia’s version of an attack. War isn’t fair, I’m afraid. Not real war, anyway.” he shrugged.

The other’s eyes flashed with anger. “Are you implying we haven’t ever fought in a ‘real war?’” one demanded, clenching his fists. No doubt, a brief history of the centuries of ‘war’ between the Demonocrats and the Angelicans was on the tip of his tongue, but Julius didn’t humour him.

“Let us go to the nearest base.” he said easily, as if he were simply talking about going on an easy flight around the city instead of regrouping all of their work entirely. “We can’t exactly stay here. Don’t worry, we’ll get our instructions soon. We can worry about Paranomia’s attack once we have loyal Demonocrats at our command again.”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, it's been forever XD I gotta say, this chapter was hard as hell to write :O
> 
> To catch up on some stuff, school finally let out for the summer and my birthday just past :D Among various other stuff, I've been relatively busy with running and keeping in shape. My school had a thing for their summer training program and I think I was on the news?? Idk I'm still trying to find out XD
> 
> Anyway, for this chapter I used a song everyone knows! I feel like I can't get away without using this song in Messenger XD So I used it for this one, where Paranomia somehow gets the base to burn down to the feet of Demonocratic defectors! :D
> 
> Uprising is probably Muse's biggest hit ever, even above Starlight and Mercy and Madness and stuff. I guess it's overplayed, but I've always regarded this song with a lot of respect. If Muse can be defined in any way, it has to be through Uprising, or another song beside it called The Resistance(Which is actually the reason the arc is called the Resistance XD) I mean, seriously, what better way to describe Muse than through a song about defying your oppressors XD
> 
> So a lot of things are happening and a lot more things are coming. But hopefully, since it's summer, I'll be back working hard on this :D
> 
> Be sure to check out my writing blog on Tumblr, @Messenger-of-Innocence :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, Linkin Park, the bible, or Jupiter's Moons XD
> 
> The cover image was drawn by Makoyana!
> 
> Hopefully I'll be back soon :')
> 
> ~Madz


	25. Ruled By Secrecy

O~o~O

The night passed without much incident.

Demons shrieked and roared in triumph, dancing and beating around the burning Base. After the Commanders had left, the soldiers finished their work on making sure the Base was damaged beyond repair. The demons that hadn’t been to invade Paranomia’s territory were confused, but they were carried away by the excitement of destruction and didn’t care for reason. What kind of demon would heed their leaders when all around them was fire and screaming and everything that could possibly appeal to their wild side?

Their sheer inability to be controlled led to things more typical of a demon and true to their nature. A few unfortunate souls in the wrong place at the wrong time asked questions and ended up being fuel for the fires.

Flesh and bone ended up being excellent feed for a fire that big, after all.

The chilling screams of both the liberated and the lost rang around the region, catching the interest of several more nearby. It wasn’t long before an alarming amount of demons ran free around the area, and as a consequence, it became dangerous to approach.

O~o~O

“Are you sure you wish to go on this mission, young one?”

“I am sure, my Lord.”

“Pray, do explain why you would wish to go on such a risky investigation? You do understand how dangerous it is.”

“Of course I do. I simply wish to contribute more to the Angelican objective.”

“...”

“...Sir?”

“...Good, good, yes, very good, my child.”

“Hnn.”

“You have such a cute smile. You should smile more often.”

“O-oh...Thank you...My Lord.”

“Remember to be careful. I need you here to continue assisting me in monitoring the progression of the plan.”

“Of course.”

“Take the salt. It will protect you if anything goes wrong. I can expect a full report from you when you return?”

“Aye, sir.”

O~o~O

‘Aping my soul…’

A soft breeze gently disturbed the space, carrying along the faint tinkling noise of harps in the distance. Arthur’s hair stirred from it, and he opened his eyes just slightly at the familiar sensation. It was soothing enough to almost put him right back to sleep.

Instead, he processed what was happening, and opened his eyes.

Blue. Blue was all he could see.

The same shade of gorgeous blue that had haunted his dreams for...what felt like years.

‘You stole my overture…’

Letting out an awed breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, Arthur blinked once and lowered his gaze as he sat up, trying to take in the rest of his surroundings. The vast landscape...He was sure he’d never seen it before, but something about it was achingly familiar.

‘Of course.’ he thought, letting out a startled, disbelieving laugh. He was in Heaven. He was home.

The silhouettes along the horizon were cathedrals within the main part of God’s Kingdom of Paradise, Arthur was certain of it. He could see various shrines from where he was, when he abruptly brought himself to a stand, and the clouds were as white and fluffy as he remembered.

Arthur hadn’t been this warm in too long. He quickly glanced down at himself once he realised that, and noted that he was in his natural, angelic form. After a moment, he became overwhelmed with the familiar scents and sounds all around him, and covered his face to collect himself.

‘Trapped in God’s program…’

Slowly taking his hands from his face, Arthur forced himself to take a deep breath and look around once more. There was no way this was real. But...Arthur had to calm himself down when his breathing became heavy, his mind unable to wrap itself around what he was seeing and his body wanting nothing more than to collapse and weep for sheer joy. It was taking him a few moments to come to terms with what he was looking at; muscles had delayed responses and he spent more time than he meant to just staring at everything.

But...Was this real?

Had they taken him back? After all he had done to defect them and the demons... Did they pull him out of Hell and put him back home? Was that what this was? He turned, half expecting to see Alfred there beside him, looking around in just as much awe, but found that the demon was not there. Of course he wasn’t. He couldn’t be, could he?

Then...Why was Arthur there? He had wronged just as much, if not more than a demon could, hadn’t he? Was this all a dream? Had he conjured up a universe in his head where angels could not be trusted in his sleep, and suddenly woken up?

Or...Was this a dream?

Was he so desperate for warmth and comfort that he had dreamed of Heaven?

‘Oh, I...Can’t...Escape…’

The voices, they had been faraway before, but now they seemed to be getting louder...Someone was there, someone was yelling, lots of people were yelling for him or at him, he didn’t know, but they were there and he was-

“What do you mean, ‘everyone’s gotta hide in here?!’ Come on, man, this isn’t exactly a safe haven! What the hell is going on?!”

Arthur abruptly woke to yelling and bustling and the noise of a lot of demons around, and groaned. His eyes wouldn’t stay open, but he had no intention of getting up quite yet. The dream was slowly being forgotten, and he vaguely could remember that he hadn’t gotten much time to rest. “Alfred, tell them to go away. I need some more sleep.” he mumbled, not sure if the demon was close enough to hear.

The activity didn’t stop, and suddenly Arthur was very grateful for the large curtain Alfred had hung up to separate the bed and the balcony. At least no one could see him struggling to wake up.

He growled when the stomping of boots wouldn’t stop and the incessant chatter kept on going, and going...So many people were in the room on the other side of that curtain and he had to let out a slow breath, trying to collect himself.

There were lots of voices that he couldn’t be bothered to recognise. “Something’s happened, okay? We don’t think anywhere else is safe. This kind of thing, we have to ride it out! We can’t get caught up in it.” someone was saying, and Arthur seethed, starting to get up. “The entire region is being razed, we came because-”

“Look, dude, I told you. Y’all can’t come in here. I know, I- I know, I heard you. But you gotta listen to me, Arthur’s asleep, or at least trying to be, and he’s not gonna be happy when he wakes up. No. No no no no no, you don’t understand. The guy is freakin’ terrifying when he hasn’t slept. Listen to me! You- you don’t wanna do tha-”

“ALFRED?! ALFRED, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”

A sound which Arthur assumed to be Alfred yelping was the last noise before the entire room went silent. All of the demons were staring at Arthur after he’d shoved aside the curtain, and he stared right back. His hands were shaking slightly and he could hardly keep his eyes open to maintain the bleary glare he had on all of them, breathing short and fast, but he made a sort of half-snarl at them anyway. He looked furious.

Before anyone could move, one demon spoke up. “Arthur, you look awful. What happened to you?” 

Another beat of silence passed, before Arthur turned his head to look at her, attempting to take a deep breath. Someone accidentally snorted out loud, but quickly covered it with a straight face before Arthur could really be angry about it.

Luckily, Alfred darted toward him and held up a hand to everyone else. “Shut up, j-just shut up you guys,” he said to all of them, before turning and gently taking Arthur’s arms. “Hey, hey buddy, it’s okay. I’ll take care of it. You go back to sleep, it’s fine.” he smiled sweetly, trying to turn Arthur around back towards the bed. 

Arthur wouldn’t have it. He started to resist, wrinkling his nose and turning back towards the crowd of demons. “Oi, I said I want to know what the hell is-”

“Yea, yea, I know. I know, it’s okay. I’ll find out and tell you later. Okay? Just lemme take care of this, you go back to sleep.” Alfred grinned nervously at the group before hurrying Arthur to bed. In a flurry of movement, Alfred had ushered Arthur out of sight and Arthur was almost pulling Alfred along with him. As soon as the curtain dropped behind them, Alfred let out a sigh of relief, and so did Arthur. They both relaxed almost immediately, with Alfred letting out a dramatic groan. “Oh, man, thanks dude. You have no idea how stressful that was. You never yelled Operation Tsunami, though.” he grinned jokingly.

Rolling his eyes, Arthur smiled wryly. He no longer looked tired at all. “What good would that have done? Besides, I’m sure we know well enough when to get each other out of, er, iffy situations. Anyway, what’s going on? I was actually sleeping, you know.” he paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Was.”

Alfred grimaced. “Sorry.” he apologised, and rubbed the back of his head. “Something’s happened. Someone said something about the Base being destroyed? I’m not exactly sure yet. I still have to talk to them to find out. From what I know, the group high-tailed it over here so they wouldn’t get caught up in the destruction.”

“Ah.” Arthur crossed his arms, nodding along like he understood. But then he shook his head abruptly. “Come again?”

Blinking, Alfred tilted his head at Arthur, before it finally hit him. “Oh. Right. Duh, haha, sorry. Okay, so, the thing about demons? We- uh, they- really like destruction. Like, a lot. Even if it’s like our own property or whatever, we kinda become primitive or something and keep it going. Something feral and wild like that can’t really be controlled, so I think they were trying not to let themselves be exposed to it.” he suddenly stopped for a moment, and then started laughing quietly, making Arthur frown. “Pfft, sorry. That’s just...Wow. You wanna know how loyal they are to you? They resisted demon nature. That’s like telling your God to stick it.”

Arthur nodded slowly, and raised his eyebrows. “...Interesting.” he murmured to himself. But then, like something had hit him from clear across the room, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. 

“...What?” Alfred frowned in concern. “What, what is it, what?”

Shaking his head, Arthur gestured around, his mouth forming silent words in an attempt to explain. The longer it went on, the more he seemed to put together. “I- ah- er, the- the Base. It was destroyed. Why?” before Alfred had the chance to say he didn’t know, Arthur kept going. “The army that invaded yesterday. They came, we chased them off, with their tails practically between their legs. They were terrified because we humiliated their leaders, and I threatened to kill them. What did I tell them after that? I told them that they are all caught in a web of lies.”

There was no stopping Arthur on a tangent like this. Alfred could only try to keep up. “I- I explained to them and reasoned why they should believe me, and I made them question their leader’s motives. What did that do? It made them question their trust towards Phobos and Deimos, their commanders in that moment. Where did they go when we chased them off?”

“The Base,” Alfred gasped, the realisation hitting him.

Arthur nodded vigorously, his eyes sharp and his expression eager. “The Base! When Phobos and Deimos couldn’t answer their questions, when they foolishly refused to even attempt to correct what I had done, or maybe they didn’t even realise it, I don’t know, they revolted!” he let out a shocked laugh. “The army that invaded us started a riot and from there it couldn’t be stopped! And now the entire Region is in disorder…”

Trailing off, Arthur looked up when Alfred started laughing, a cute little giggle escalating to a full scale fit of laughter. He laughed so hard he was shaking, and had to stumble over to a wall to keep from falling. Arthur watched, unable to hold back a slowly growing grin at the sight. “You burned the Base down, Artie!” Alfred laughed hysterically. “You scared them so much that you burned the Base down!”

They were making a lot of noise, Arthur realised. But he didn’t really care, even though the demons still present in the room were bound to wonder what was going on. Sure enough, the curtain was drawn back just a little bit to reveal Basch and Ludwig, who saw Arthur holding Alfred steady as he came down from his mirthful outburst. As he giggled into Arthur’s shoulder, hugging him back tightly, Arthur glanced over to the demons and shrugged slightly. ‘I’ll explain later,’ he mouthed.

Eventually, Alfred calmed down enough that they could come out and successfully explain the whole ordeal to the group. Arthur lost the whole sleepy act and took charge, saying that the group could stay there so long as they kept quiet. In a while, he and Alfred and a few others, whom of which he trusted for their self control, would go around to check if the region was safe. Perhaps these rebel demons could add to Arthur’s army, once they calmed down, at least. That was the plan that stood, before Arthur promptly went back behind the curtain to try and go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t.

Alfred sat with him while he mulled over what he just realised. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen; sure, a revolt of some kind, but not something immediate and massive as the complete demolition of the Base! Arthur hadn’t realised his little speech would resonate so deeply with the invading army. He figured that would only take a small toll on the Demonocracy, perhaps over time there would be some very subtle fraying at the threads of the Base, but not something so abrupt, so largescale. There just wasn’t anything he could say or do about it; he’d gone farther than he’d intended.

Gingerly resting his head against Arthur’s shoulder, Alfred let his tail flop around and play around with Arthur’s. “What are we gonna do now?” he asked quietly. He pouted slightly and lowered his eyebrows worriedly, like he could feel Arthur’s internal conflict. Then, like he’d done since their incident with the halo, he softly added “What are you feeling?”

Arthur combed back his red hair, and then let the hand rest on top of Alfred’s head. His fingers thoughtfully stroked over the ridges of Alfred’s horns, and he let out a very deep sigh before he could word his response. “I don’t...I...I’ll figure something out.” he murmured, glancing up towards the blank ceiling. “I feel confused and surprised. But I’m not...I’m not worried, if that’s what you mean.”

Below him, Alfred, bless him, the adorable thing he was, snuggled closer and buried his face in Arthur’s side. His arms came around Arthur’s waist, no longer lazily drooping around him, but holding him firmly. Arthur answered with an affectionate stroke down the demon’s back and a hesitant smile down at him. They would figure it out. With some time, of course, but they would figure it out.

While Alfred dozed in his lap, Arthur shut his eyes and tried to focus his magic and pick up on the magic coursing through the area. Without his halo, it was hard to pick up very distinct signals, but he could put together some things. Offhandedly, he wondered why he should be able to feel the magic at all; either he had been practicing magic enough and had become relatively powerful with it, or he was being allowed to feel...Arthur would rather it be the former.

The magic felt distant and sometimes indistinguishable, unable to understand. At least he could pick out just enough. There was enough that the Unholy magic was present...But somewhere in there, he could feel Holy magic, emanating from very far and very faintly...Arthur let out a huff and clenched his jaw, trying to focus harder, but he couldn’t get much more beyond that.

But did that mean the angels were coming down to Hell? Arthur wasn’t aware of any other region Holy magic would be present in, meaning that they would be there to investigate the chaos, but it was possible the violence could have spread on further, if what Alfred said was true. Or he could be completely misunderstanding the feeling and he was just picking up some edge of Heaven

Arthur wanted to bet he knew exactly where the magic was coming from, though.

He awoke Alfred with a gentle shake. “Come on, I have a plan.” he muttered lowly, absentmindedly stroking the hair of the stirring demon below him.

O~o~O

The clouds above Hell appeared to thin briefly, the cold temperatures rising and the humidity giving way for just a moment. Hardly enough for it to be noticeable.

At least, not to the deranged and wild mob of demons still ravaging the city. They had calmed down little since the revolt against their leaders, and continued to tear up the town. Several were dead, more were injured, but the ones still mobile were still caught up in the sick thrill of death and destruction. Names were forgotten, alliances had lost meaning, and whatever civilisation they had before wasn’t going to come back any time soon. The Demonocracy wouldn’t take a step near the region until the worst of it had ridden over.

Some of the older demons couldn’t be bothered to take part in all the fun. In various places dotted around the city, buildings were quiet and calm compared to the madness going on throughout the region, holding demons that were cranky that nothing productive could be done until all the excitement was over.

Arthur had spread out his army within these areas, so he had eyes a safe distance away from all the ruination. That way, the faster demons could sneak around and tell him of any developments, and he could monitor the conflict directly, as well as his own demons.

They waited, patiently and quietly while the demons continued their senseless vandalising. It was difficult with the small amount of space they were able to move around in, but Arthur knew they could manage. Even if they were getting bored. Alfred had started kicking around some rocks after some time, and even got Basch to play with him. Arthur had no idea how he managed that, but he watched them with an amused smile.

“Won’t you join us, Arthur?” Basch asked him, trying to coax Arthur out of his spot where he watched the demons. Opening his mouth to politely deny the offer, Arthur started to say something, only to sense a very powerful presence nearby. He turned around slowly, and then took in a sharp breath just as he noticed them.

Coming up next to him, Alfred gasped audibly at seeing the angels appear, and, looking around, Arthur could see that the rest of his demons were just as amazed. Sure, they had seen angels before, but perhaps it wasn’t often they could get a good look without being attacked. That thought made Arthur smile wryly; he supposed there never would have been time before now, after all.

The angels flew down within a thin ray of light, soft and delicate as to not disturb the demons within the area. There weren’t many; Arthur could hardly count enough to make up an entire regiment. Their wings were pure and full in colour, reflecting some of the light, and giving off a very ethereal sense. Their halos glittered, and parts of their uniforms glistened vaguely. Arthur knew they only more brilliant and dazzling in Heaven, but the sheer amount of elegance and grace in their appearance was completely contrasting to the dull grey of Hell.

Arthur was prepared to move his own army away in case the angels shifted closer, but the small group of the Angelicans stayed at a distance that Arthur felt safe enough to stay.

“Arthur…” Alfred whispered, peeking eagerly over the wall they were crouched behind.

Glancing at him to show he was listening, Arthur motioned for him to back down in case he was seen. Luckily, Alfred complied, and not a second too soon; one angel looked over at them just after they hid again. But something about that particular angel...Arthur frowned and peeked again after a safe amount of time, and his suspicions were confirmed. His expression became stern and a little uncomfortable; why would the Angelicans send Feliciano down with this group?

Alfred nudged him to get his attention again. “Arthur, they’re really, really beautiful.” he murmured insistently, having to grasp Arthur’s hand tightly just to contain his excitement. Shaking his head, Arthur chuckled at him and rolled his eyes. “No, like, seriously! Not as much as you, but…” he trailed off, his blue eyes sparkling with the reflection of the heavenly beings.

Sighing, Arthur reached up to push Alfred’s head down again so he wasn’t seen. “Of course they are. They were created that way.”

None of the demons who were around them appeared to take any mind to Alfred’s offhanded comment of Arthur’s own beauty, which was a relief. Arthur wished he wouldn’t have said anything, however, because his cheeks suddenly felt warm.

Without any immediate danger to worry about, Arthur’s group silently observed the angels as they cautiously approached the uncontrollable demons. Those demons were screeching and dancing around fires and praising Satan, all of which didn’t seem to faze the feathered creatures. They didn’t even look too concerned about staying out of sight like Arthur was, and instead idly fluttered about to watch the demons from only a slight distance. They were clever about keeping behind their backs, but all in all, the angels didn’t appear to think of the demons as dangerous.

Arthur had no idea why that was. He would have thought that the angels would be smart about a mission like that and hide like he was, but perhaps they didn’t understand the situation entirely.

Time passed, Arthur had no idea how long they were all just sitting there, watching the demons in complete silence. Occasionally, he would move around his group to see if he could get a better view of what the angels were doing, but very little was working.

It began to rain. The water beat very gently upon them and the ground, and the angels did not seem impressed. At least, until Arthur noticed a slight disturbance in their midst. They began to move around like something had snuck in and startled them, but from where Arthur was, he couldn’t see anything wrong.

He maneuvered his group again, making sure everyone was safe and hidden before he looked again, trying to figure out the problem. Alfred came up beside him. “Hey…” Arthur narrowed his eyes to try and sharpen his vision, but it was difficult to see through the rain. “Hey, Arthur. Do you see those vials? The ones they’re holding.”

“Yes, I see.” Arthur answered, wondering what Alfred was implying. He glanced at the demon with question.

Alfred nodded to the angels, and then looked back at Arthur. “Look at their feet. If that’s what I think it is…”

Skeptically, Arthur turned and looked at the ground near where the angels stood, then noticed some thin white trails. “They brought salt…” he whispered, his eyes widening. The rain must be messing with the salt lines they had created. They had to have brought salt in the place of a more dangerous weapon; after all, it was just a mission of observation, right? They wouldn’t need that much to protect them. Just some salt to fling in a demon’s face in the event of confrontation.

But, surely a little rain wouldn’t worry the angels that much, right? From the distance they were at, Arthur could vaguely see what looked like an argument. He didn’t recognise any of them, except for Feliciano, who seemed the most distraught out of all of them.

All of the demons, every single one including Arthur’s army, turned in the direction of the angels at the sound of glass shattering.

Arthur watched, with eyes wide, as the angels all looked at Feliciano, who seemed to have thrown down the vial. Feliciano himself was looking around desperately, searching for something, or someone…”They’re looking for me.” Arthur whispered, ducking down so he wasn’t visible to anyone outside of his group. He made a hand motion to indicate that the others do the same, and, with Alfred beside him, he watched the wild demons approach the angels.

“Artie.” Alfred said quietly. Arthur ignored him, in favour of scowling at the impending conflict. The demons greatly outnumbered the angels, and a little salt would definitely not be enough to hold them all off. They were all looking at a bloody battle, uncivilised demons tearing apart the angels in a brutal attack. Arthur would wait for it patiently. Beside him, Alfred hopped up, unsure of what to do. “Arthur, Arthur, are we just going to let them-?”

Trying to calm Alfred down with a wave of his hand, Arthur continued to watch, his gaze cold and unfeeling. The angels came here, so it was their own fault if they were attacked. They could afford a few casualties here and there, after all. All Arthur had to do was watch.

The angels began backing away, realising the danger they were in. Feliciano kept looking around, hopelessly trying to find him, but...Arthur didn’t care. They wouldn’t find him, they wouldn’t ruin him. They would leave him and his army alone. He couldn’t trust any of them, because no one knew who was really in control. No one did. And they could try to find him, try to kill him, but he wouldn’t let them take him.

“Arthur!” Alfred finally snapped at him, and grabbed both of his shoulders to force Arthur to face him. “Arthur, we can’t just let this happen! We can stop it, can’t we?” he asked hopelessly. “No one has to die today!”

Glaring back defiantly, Arthur opened his mouth to protest, ready to explain that it was their own fault if they were killed. Alfred must have noticed the ruthlessness in his expression, because he blinked at Arthur, trying to read him for any sign of empathy. But, there must not have been much there. The sheer shock and dismal look in his big blue eyes made Arthur clench his jaw and let out a rough sigh through his nose. “Fine.” he spat.

He turned and yelled to get the attention of his army. “Distract the demons, but don’t let yourself be seen!” he ordered. “Make sure the angels escape safely!” With that, he and Alfred jumped forward and flew towards the desperate situation.

Keeping in the shadows and staying indistinguishable from any of the other demons, his army worked quietly, holding off demons by slowing them down, and giving the angels as much time as possible to get away before the crowd became too excitable. Arthur had to punch one in the face to keep him from chasing them, and that initiated an entire brawl that got the demon’s minds off the angels only briefly.

“Look at the pretty birdies!” one slurred, and Arthur cursed while wiping blood from his chin. Why wouldn’t they just fly away already? “Birdies look tasty...Tasty birdies~” Arthur angrily swung his fist, and it connected with the demon’s head hard enough to knock him right out.

The angels continued their retreat down the streets, staying in an organised formation. For a reason Arthur couldn’t figure out, they wouldn’t fly up. He began to get concerned that it was a trap, but he didn’t think the angels would look so genuinely afraid if it were; angels were very bad at hiding their true emotions. So, he hesitantly continued to try and slow down the mob of violent demons as much as he and his army could.

As it went on, it was looking like they couldn’t do it for much longer. Almost in a drunken trance, the demons became fixated with the angels, and vocally expressed how much they would like to eat them, or torture them, or do whatever it took to hear them scream. There was nothing Arthur could do would stop them unless he wanted his army to be hypnotised into the trance as well.

He shared a look with Alfred, and with Basch, Ludwig, and Ivan, who appeared to be coming to the same realisation he was. They could only do one more thing. Without the ability to explain it in detail without revealing himself, Arthur did what he could to convey his plan. Luckily, his army caught on.

Alfred flew over to cover Arthur, shielding him from view. Basch and Ivan went towards the front of the crowd, leading the others with them so they took the brunt of the demon’s approach. Ludwig flew out in front of them all, turning to face the angels.

“You have to leave!” he yelled at them, raising his wings and baring his teeth to frighten them, trying urge them to fly away. “Go now! Unless you want to be eaten alive!”

Startled, the angels fluttered further away, while Arthur, Alfred, Ivan, and the others tried to shove off the approaching demons. It was beginning to cause a stir, and fights were breaking out. It was becoming more and more dangerous the longer the angels waited.

But, finally, Arthur peeked back just as Feliciano flew up, leading the others with him. He had chosen a bad time to look, because he could have sworn that he and Feliciano locked eyes for just a moment, a moment long enough to be significant. Did Feliciano recognise him? Arthur had no idea, but it certainly felt like it. Before the demons could really react to follow them, the angels took off and soared up high in the sky, heading back towards Heaven. 

“Fall back!” Arthur hollered. “Head for the alley!”

O~o~O

Francis flew over as fast as he could as soon as he heard the news. The group Feliciano had flown out with had returned, finally, and Francis wanted to be the first to hear from the ginger-haired angel. He’d heard something about them being in danger, something had exposed them to the demons they were meant to observe. He could only wonder…

“Feliciano!” he called out, reaching for the angel. He was trembling, and it made Francis concerned. “Feli, are you alright? What happened-?”

Turning abruptly, Feliciano faced Francis with a wide smile. “Francis! I saw him!” before Francis could reply, Feliciano grabbed his arm and flew a distance away from the rest of the angels. He seemed barely able to control his excitement, and hugged Francis before he could react.

Smiling gently, Francis hugged him back. “Saw who?” he questioned calmly.

“I saw Arthur!”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Before I go into the stuff about this chapter, I have a very special shoutout for a very special someone :D I met her only recently, but she's already such a great friend and deserves this and more! Mana, or y'all might know her as gallifreyanlibertea or thedoctorwatcheshetalia! Today, the 26th, is her birthday XD So here's to Mana, the sweetest girl ever like ahhh I wish I could hug you!! I'm so proud and so happy for you, keep writing and being awesome!
> 
> So! Hey, it's been awhile ^.^' This chapter was called Ruled By Secrecy! Originally, it was supposed to be a Linkin Park song, but this Muse song went better with the overall theme. If it were to be sung, it would be sung by Arthur, but perhaps in his dream he'd sing this. That dream in the beginning where he was in Heaven? Yea, I think that's where he'd sing it. And then just gradually over the course of the chapter, it'd build up to that climactic chorus XD
> 
> I didn't actually put much lyrical input at all, and the little I did wasn't even from Ruled By Secrecy XD In the dream, I put little quotes that go "Aping my soul...You stole my Overture...Trapped in God's program...Oh I can't escape..." Which is from another Muse song :P This is just getting complicated, sorry XD I'll try to explain, though.
> 
> As you all know, Messenger is progressing through arcs. This is where it gets really confusing; there is a very obvious timeline of arcs, and that would be the previous one, The Blackout Arc, and then this one, The Resistance Arc. And then there's separate arcs that cover the course of the entire story. For example, there is The Drones Arc, which is the Muse album that will be a recurring thematic type motif, and then there's The Exogenesis Arc.
> 
> The Exogenesis Symphony, is only three songs from the album The Resistance(three movements to the symphony, kinda) and, like The Drones Arc, it will cover the entire story, only, not with nine or ten songs, but just the three XD It's more of a general theme that follows a couple of arcs, representing plot and character development. We are still in Exogenesis Symphony Part One: Overture, which is absolutely gorgeous and where the random lyrical quotes in Arthur's dream come from. If you actually listened to the song, you might not be able to understand what Bellamy is saying, but trust me, those are the lyrics XD I might not make the symphonies actual chapters, it just depends on how the story progresses. Anyway, so you'll be seeing more of that first part of the symphony!
> 
> Isn't it sad how Arthur doesn't realise Feliciano seeing him is a good thing? XD Feliciano is like "AHHH HE'S ALIVE" and Arthur's like "AHHH THE ANGELS ARE COMING FOR ME" 
> 
> ...And then you have Alfred, who's just like "Dude, chill" XD
> 
> Alright! So, Disclaimer** I don't own the bible, Muse, Linkin Park, sweet Mana(<3), the thing about salt being a weapon against demons, or Hetalia :D
> 
> The cover image was drawn by Makoyana! Who, btw, is trying to become an official artist for Muse's next album or single, and she could really use help! You can help us by going on Twitter or Instagram and @-ing the band, or any of the members, and using the #Makoyana!
> 
> Do you guys like my new name? Tbh I changed it because of recent world events...The outcome of November will determine whether or not I change it back to Innocence or keep Resistance...XD
> 
> ~Madz


	26. From the Inside

O~o~O

Francis was sick.

He couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. It had to be an illness that plagued him, rising in his throat and making his insides churn. It was so unfamiliar and uncomfortable, so vastly different from what he knew that he felt he couldn’t bear it. What was happening to him was a gruesome decay of his resolve, and it made his heart pound and his body work itself into a cold sweat. He found over time that it was progressively getting worse; he was becoming anxious and jittery to what he thought was an unhealthy level.

Small noises began to startle him. He was sick of hiding, sick of uncertainty, sick of not knowing who to trust. He was sick of this labyrinthine loneliness. There wasn’t anything he could say without risking his and Feli’s safety. There was nothing he could do that wouldn’t put he, Feli, and Arthur even in danger.

Poor Feliciano was a mere shell of the angel he used to be. There were dark circles under his gorgeous eyes from hours of watching holographic projections, and his movements were half hearted and hardly ever graceful anymore. It was obvious he was frightened of something, and most angels who talked to them tried to urge him to sleep. Francis knew he couldn’t; he would just stare with wide eyes at the sky, only ever able to sleep for a couple of hours at a time.

There was never a time before where Francis had been this helpless, this powerless. He was guilty and furious and torn up about what he wanted and what he had to do. Sometimes he found himself picking nervously at his feathers out of the sheer frustration of unanswered questions. Others, he’d be lying still, staring at the sky until his head would ache. He didn’t understand why he was suffering; he wasn’t being injured or harmed physically in any way. Alas, most angels did not understand that the mind was just as capable of unbearable torment as any weapon.

He was sick of not being able to speak.

Of the hundreds of angels he saw a day, there was only one who he could freely express himself to. Even with that, the opportunities he had to speak were limited and chopped, with only room for bits and pieces. It wasn’t enough for him. It just wasn’t enough for him to live.

There was a breaking point. There was a point where Francis couldn’t take stuffing his feelings into a glass container anymore, and where he could no longer keep his words locked up on the tip of his tongue. There was a point where everything he had worked for would fall apart.

The breaking point wasn’t dramatic when it was hit. Yes, the glass shattered into a million tiny pieces, and yes, the lock became too weak to fulfill its purpose. Instead of going off like an explosive, the breaking point appeared in a sudden, but quiet moment of clarity. Within it, Francis’s vision sharpened, and his moral compass righted itself. His third eye was wide open.

He had changed. His resolution, his goals, his dreams had all changed, and there was no going back.

In the morning, Francis awoke early and left a sleeping Feliciano with a kiss on his cheek and a murmured blessing. With an indifferent expression, he fluttered out into the open air, and made his way to Camael’s cathedral. There, he knew he would find an assembly, lots of angels gathering in the grand temple to sing into the sunrise.

He landed gently before the massive palace with the voices of hundreds echoing softly around him. Closing his eyes, he stopped, and for just a moment he could let himself remember the beauty of Heaven for its voices and its harps. There wasn’t a more beautiful sound that existed anywhere, he didn’t think.

Taking long, languid steps into the cathedral, Francis looked around. The sun reflected through the windows, dappling the floor with splashes of vivid colour, and through the angel’s wings as they stood all along the arch. He thought for a moment if he looked hard enough, he could see the celestial blood pumping through their veins, giving life and breath to the angels. Truly, they were pure and simple creatures that harboured great power. But they were being poisoned and corrupted with every second that went by.

It couldn’t go on any longer.

Camael watched him curiously, while he walked through the angels and didn’t halt to sing with the rest. Instead, he walked right up to the altar, where the sun was rising to Camael’s back, and the cathedral was golden with a soft, promising glow. Francis walked up to the Seraph, with his six wings spread and his cross over his heart.

Francis only stopped when he was directly in front of the magnificent archangel.

“Camael.” he addressed simply.

The voices slowly began to fade behind him, lost in the echo of the cathedral. An ominous silence swept over the room, confused and lost.

Camael blinked once at Francis with a relaxed expression, and Francis could see himself in those silver eyes. Those cold, unfeeling, sinister silver eyes.

Francis took a breath. “What you have done and what you are continuing to do is wrong. You have lied to us.” he accused calmly. So calmly, that he had no trouble detecting the apparent air of shock behind him. Camael did not look surprised. “I cannot allow this to go on any longer.”

There wasn’t even time to blink before Francis had summoned his bow and arrow to fire.

O~o~O

The room was mostly quiet.

A couple of pages were flipped over quickly, Arthur skimming some pages for certain words. He sat on the floor, and all around him were stacks of books he’d collected from the Nkri graveyard. He held three open books, one in each hand, and one balanced on his knee. The only way he could flip the pages and still see all three books was with magic, and it was starting to wear him out after doing it for so long. It was such hard work that he’d switched forms, feeling it was too warm with his uniform jacket on. Besides, as an angel, it was easier to concentrate on using magic.

But, that was why he was practicing. He was reading books on history, Unholy magic, and Holy magic, all while practicing and refining his own ability. It wasn’t possible for an angel to use Unholy magic, but Holy magic was generally more powerful anyway. If he could just catch up on his practice and learn some more complicated parts of his potential power...Arthur had lost track of time, having gone into a flowing state of progress.

All the while, he wondered offhandedly what would happen should one of his soldiers fly through the open balcony. Would they recognise him immediately? Or would they just think he was another angel like Alfred did? Arthur remembered that with an amused chuckle, how oblivious Alfred had been at first, and how frightened he himself had been. How naïve he was then...

Perhaps that state of flow was why he didn’t notice the other presence at first, but it didn’t take long for him to realise Alfred had returned and was trying to sneak up on him. He was at least careful about it, taking silent steps and making sure his silhouette didn’t cross Arthur’s vision. But magic wouldn’t allow Alfred to hide.

“How are you, Alfred?” Arthur asked, not looking up from his books.

“Damn it.” Alfred replied, laughing. He started to walk over, opening his mouth to say something, but Arthur stopped him by looking up shaking his head. Pausing, Alfred tilted his own head.

Arthur carefully shut one of the books in his hand and set it down, and then held it up towards Alfred. “I want to try something. Tell me about your day so far.” was all he said, watching Alfred carefully.

Blinking, Alfred thought for a moment, and then shrugged. “I mean, okay, dude. Uh, well, it was pretty normal, I guess. I flew around the city for awhile…” As Alfred spoke, Arthur’s hand began making short, but complicated gestures, and his eyes started to glow a faint gold colour. “...And then I helped out a bit at that shop run by that-...”

Arthur’s hand closed into a fist, and Alfred suddenly fell silent, looking shocked that he wasn’t saying anything. He even opened and closed his mouth a couple times, but he wasn’t able to form words.

Eyes lighting up, Arthur grinned. “It works...” he said lowly. “...Ha! It works!”

His fist opened up, and Alfred was finally able to talk again. He had to test his voice out for a moment before he spoke.. “You mean to tell me…” he started off quietly, with a frown. “That I came all the way back home just for you to tell me you learned how to shut me up?”

Arthur nodded excitedly.

They just stared at each other for a moment. “...Dude, that’s awesome!” Alfred bounded forward, and flew down low with his arms open so he would slide right into Arthur for a hug. Arthur met him with a smile, chuckling when the demon nuzzled his neck. “Can it, like, work on everyone? Oh! Oh! What about the other way around?”

Accepting the embrace easily, Arthur sighed pleasantly and relaxed. “What do you mean, ‘the other way around?’ I’m not sure if it’ll work on everyone, but I have a good feeling about it. Magic is very peculiar; once I can get comfortable with something, it starts to come quite naturally.” he shrugged.

Alfred pulled back a little to look around at the books that were open in front of Arthur. “I mean like, if you wanted to make me say something. Could you do that?” He tilted his head.

The books all flipped shut suddenly, and Alfred grinned excitedly when he noticed Arthur had closed them with magic. “I’m...Not sure if I can. But I can learn that too. We’ll see.” Arthur nodded. Then, in a teasing tone, he added “It will be useful for when you don’t know what to say, at least.”

He got up and started organising the books, lifting his hands and somehow convincing the books to stack up neatly in another part of the room, hidden from view from anyone who should happen to fly by. The balcony was wide open, after all. “You have to be polite with them,” Arthur explained vaguely. “Books don’t like to be pushed around. But as long as you’re courteous, they will comply.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but okay.” Alfred laughed, and came up to Arthur again while he was finishing putting the books up. “Well, I came to tell you that Basch wants to talk to you. He and Ludwig continued spying on the demons from the base, like you told them too. They’re starting to calm down a bit. Ludwig said we could probably talk to them without being attacked.”

His interest piqued, Arthur glanced at Alfred. “Is that so?” he questioned mildly. “Well, then, I suppose we’ll have to see if we can enlist anyone…” Trailing off in deep thought, he absentmindedly gestured elegantly into the air, performing the switching spell. His feathered wings and tunic were soon replaced with the leathered wings and uniform. And, of course, the horns and tail. Alfred walked around him as he did, tilting his head slightly and observing Arthur with a skeptical look.

Arthur looked right back at him with a bored expression. He crossed his arms, straightening his posture and raising his eyebrows in silent question. His tail flicked impatiently.

Alfred frowned a little bit, and rubbed his head. “You seem...Distant.” he remarked pensively. His eyes narrowed slightly, either with unspoken accusation or curious concern; Arthur couldn’t quite tell. But it didn’t matter, they had work to do. “Have you been thinking about something that’s bothering you?”

“No.” Arthur was quick to say, letting out a heavy breath and heading for the balcony. “I’m fine, Alfred, I have a lot to think about when we’re all at risk of being attacked at virtually any time, and when we could possibly triple the size of the army by tonight. I can’t be anything but distant at a time like this.”

Following hesitantly, Alfred’s expression didn’t change while they walked out onto the balcony. He listened as Arthur went on, speaking in a tone like he was lecturing Alfred. “You understand, don’t you? It’s not safe and we can’t let our guard down. We-”

“Not even around me?” Alfred interrupted, mildly surprising Arthur. He felt Alfred reach to gently make Arthur face him. There was little force behind the gesture, a sort of reluctance, and a faint hint of hurt in Alfred’s eyes. They were both silent for a moment, because Arthur wasn’t sure how to answer and he didn’t think Alfred knew how to continue.

He let out a deep sigh. “Come on. We have to go check on the Base demons.” he said curtly, and then jumped up and took off, diving into Hell’s dank and humid city.

Alfred wasn’t long after him, and Arthur could hear him catching up until they were even with one another. They shared a glance before returning to concentrating on their flight. The silence that stretched between them wasn’t really tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

It wasn’t clear what was bugging Alfred, and it bothered Arthur a little bit because it was normally easy to figure out. Recently, Alfred had become very tentative and reluctant around Arthur, and nervous to talk to him in front of other demons. For the life of him, Arthur couldn’t fathom what it was. He didn’t do anything wrong, and it wasn’t really possible for Alfred to hide anything from him.

He supposed he’d have to figure it out later.

In the distance, he began to hear voices floating from the direction of the base and narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t quite pick them out, but nothing seemed urgent. Guiding Alfred to follow with a wide turn, he weaved in and out and up and through the pillars and poles of the city, feeling refreshed with the pace and the fast wind. It was cold, but he could tolerate it. At least while he was moving.

They landed quietly just before the group, all of them chattering about something. Their voices were soft and considerate for something, most likely the rest of the expansive silence that swathed the space before them. Upon noticing their arrival, the group suddenly fell silent, and parted for he and Alfred. They carefully stepped forward.

The view was...Magnificent, for lack of a better word. Magnificent in the sense that Arthur had to shift his eyes away briefly, and Alfred had to move a few steps closer to him with a wince.

Arthur could feel all of the eyes on him, gauging his reaction to the gruesome scene before them. Once he took in a deep breath, he was able to steel himself enough to look again at the desolate ruins of the base and the grisly remains of some unfortunate souls. The lonely aftermath of the revolt was...quite bleak and bloody.

There seemed to be no signs of life at all, at least until there was some stirring from a figure in the distance, but it was weak and hardly enough to promise life. Arthur sighed quietly, and then, with a beckoning gesture and a soft voice, he said “Alright, let’s see what we can find. Search for survivors, and be on the lookout for an attack.”

“An attack?” someone asked. “There’s no one here!”

That started a bout of murmuring from the group, but Arthur silenced them by holding up a hand. “I’m aware there is no one in sight for a great distance. However, we must be careful; there is no way of knowing if there are living demons looking for a fight, or if the Demonocracy has been waiting for us to show up. Just...Be careful. Alright?”

The group then split up. As a precaution, Arthur noted they wisely stayed in small groups, and no one was left on their own. He and Alfred, of course, paired up, and the other closer and more experienced demons like Ivan and Basch were watching out for the less experienced demons.

Arthur was confident they were safe, so he lead the group around and into the half-standing building. Alfred followed close, and together they navigated the vast and craggy wreckage. There were plenty of dead bodies dappling the area, and it made the usual grey colour have a more red hue...There was also a very notably different smell. Arthur wrinkled his nose while he flew up and over what once was a tall, standing wall

Onwards towards the horizon, the desolation stretched on. “Are you okay?” Alfred asked, touching his arm. They both landed on the very tip of the tilted wall, and Arthur faced him skeptically. “I mean, with all the, uh, bodies. Can you-?”

“I’m fine.” Arthur interrupted, nodding and patting Alfred’s shoulder. “Really. I am, I can deal with it. Can you?”

Alfred smiled nervously at him. “Actually, I, uh, I’m feeling a little sick. I can keep up,” he said quickly, when Arthur opened his mouth to say something out of concern. “I’m fine. I just...As long as I’m with you, I’ll be fine. I think.”

Briefly curling his tail around Alfred’s, Arthur nodded with a slight smile. He trusted Alfred could stay focused even with such an alarming sight right with them. “Alright,” he said, turning and taking off. “Let’s see what we can find out here.”

“Yep!” Alfred took off after him. “If you get cold, let me know!”

They spent a long time picking at the destroyed base and the dead bodies. Everything seemed so dull, so lifeless and dark. The amount of bodies they spotted was alarming, in fact, it ended up being so many that Arthur didn’t bother to keep count. The group was meticulous, leaving no stone unturned. Sometimes they literally had to flip stones. Giant ones that actually were once pieces of the base. Under Arthur’s direction, the demons were able to work together and combine their strength in order to clear some of the wreckage.

It got to a point where Arthur realised they were basically taking down the remainder of the base. He ordered everyone to just start knocking things down, which he realised was a dangerous thing to do right after he said it. But before he could take back the order, the demons were already assembling to demolish the rest, so he figured he might as well join. It ended up being kind of fun, really. Somehow, when they were all working to push down a pillar, they all were making jokes and acting silly and laughing. Laughing, of all things! It felt like a crime.

Alfred was also joining in, though something about him seemed only half present. He laughed, he goofed around, but there was something off in his movement that was only apparent to Arthur. He was worried, but he didn’t say anything. He’d talk about it with Alfred when they went home.

Sometime close to when they were getting done destroying the remaining parts of the former base, Arthur stopped for a moment when his eye caught on an engraved stone sign. A sign in an old dialect that seemed familiar. Curious, Arthur knelt to pick it up. Just when you thought Hell couldn’t get any worse...He laughed to himself, and then abruptly brought it down hard on his knee. It shattered sort of in half, and the pieces crumbled to the ground.

Basch stared at him with a blank look, and Ivan smiled at him. He knew what it was. “It was the first thing I ever read here.” Arthur explained, feeling amused and uplifted. “Come on, we’re nearly done.”

It was raining by the time they actually found someone.

Everyone simultaneously turned towards the sound when they heard it, a low groan behind a standing wall supported by foundation beneath the ground. In a rush, everyone had flown over, splashing up bloodied mud upon landing. Arthur was first, and stared in shock at the figure before him.

‘There’s no lower half, she’s lost her legs…’Taking a tentative step closer, he was the first to react as well, and forced himself to go kneel beside the demon mournfully. He felt his heart pound in his chest at the sight.

“P-Paranom-mia…” the girl choked out, shakily raising her head. Her hand twitched, Arthur noticed, while his gaze travelled along her shredded body. He had to swallow back bile at seeing, up very close, her intestines splayed out in gruesome tangles where her legs used to be. The rest of the group crowded around her at a respectful distance, apparently unsure of what to do.

Making sure he had a voice, Arthur barely managed to keep his composure. “You know me?” he asked her gently, reaching delicately with his gloved hand to brush her matted hair from her face.

She swallowed thickly and nodded as best as she could, her breath hitching a couple of times. Arthur struggled not to let his expression twist with a terrified pity. “Of-of course I do...Every-everyone d-does…” she sounded like she was holding back a sob. “Th-they-they’re co-coming for y-you, Paran...nomia...They-they will...M-murder y-you without re-rem...Remorse…”

Arthur frowned when he saw her eyes mist up. They glistened with tears, looking up at him hopelessly. The faint light was leaving her eyes, instead reflecting himself. “What do you mean? The Demonocrats? They plan on…” he frowned when he remembered that he’d never seen a demon cry, that demons shouldn’t cry, or they’ll...

“Att-tacking you…E-everyone he-here...” she confirmed, finally letting out a thick sob. “The-they’re going t-to kill us all!”

Eyes widening, Arthur could only watch as the tears finally started streaming down her cheeks. ‘Why is she...Why is she crying?!’ Within seconds, she started letting out a despairing shriek as the tears burned her face, scarring and scalding her more and more.

Arthur jumped up and ushered the group back a distance, alarmed as he watched the demon be consumed in flames. All around them echoed the screams, the cries of torture that continued on for so long that Arthur couldn’t tell whether or not they had stopped and they were just ringing in his ears. Everyone’s eyes reflected a brilliant flash of fire before all went dark again.

All that remained of her was a small pile of ash.

It took a little bit before anyone could move again. Arthur was still frozen in his place when Ivan came up and gently patted his back, and Arthur jumped a little bit out of surprise. “Comrade...Are you alright?” Ivan asked softly.

Arthur’s stare was still fixed upon what remained of the demon, and he hadn’t realised he was holding his breath. Letting out shakily, he shook his head a little bit and then looked down with just his eyes at his hands. He couldn’t move much more than that. “Alfred?” he asked in a small voice.

There was some shifting behind him, some movement and quiet voices, but no warmth appeared beside Arthur, no one came to calm him. It occurred to him that no one knew where he was. “Alfred?” he asked again, in a slightly more urgent tone. He turned around quickly, only to see several faces looking back at him, and not one of them being the one he was looking for. His expression briefly reflected his inner panic, but he was quick to compose himself convincingly once again.

He cleared his throat and raised his chin, looking at everyone. He tried not to look at Ivan’s concerned expression. “We’re done here for today. But, uh…” he glanced back at the remains of the girl. “The Demonocracy is coming for us. She gave up her life to warn us, so we should take heed. We…” he hesitated.

They were all looking at him, and he recognised the look. The helpless, powerless look. None of them knew what to do, and they all looked to him for guidance. He had to stay strong for them.

“We have to go. We can’t stay here as long as we’re being hunted. We have to go somewhere else where we can be safe.” he set his jaw grimly, and the only option presented itself to him then.

He took a big breath, and let it out carefully. “...We have to leave the first circle.”

O~o~O

Once he was certain all the demons in his group had gone somewhere safe for the night, Arthur approached the pile of ash and took a moment to pray for the demon’s soul, before he went on his way. It was very lonely, he wasn’t sure how he could stand being on his own. It hit Arthur hard when he realised just how utterly alone he was without Alfred.

He could only hope that Alfred was back home. With no further hesitation, he took off.

The city seemed dark and frightening as Arthur flew past, and he found himself going faster and faster, until he was nearly sprinting. He felt his heart pounding harder and harder, but he couldn’t stop himself. Not when he was being chased by a ghost of very recent past. Part of him was haunted by the face of the young demon who’d burned before him, and part of him felt isolated and desperate, for he didn’t know what had happened to his one friend.

Somewhere along the way, the two nightmares combined, and Arthur nearly convinced himself that Alfred had cried and was now nothing more than a pile of ash. Horrified, he weaved around a little clumsily in trying to pick up speed and ended up shifting his wings the wrong way and stumbling into the balcony of his home.

He panted, but was unable to calm his thudding heart as he stood up and came up to the corner just before the opening inside. Cautiously, he peeked around the wall and crept into the room, searching for any sign of life. He almost fell to his knees in relief when he recognised the figure sitting on the bed.

“Alfred,” he said, rushing over and pulling back the curtain the rest of the way so he could see Alfred fully. “Alfred, why did you leave?”

Alfred looked up at him, mildly startled, and Arthur noticed his face was shiny with sweat and paler than it normally was. His eyes, when Arthur looked closer, were slightly dazed, and it looked like Alfred’s hands were shaking. “I-I, uh...I couldn’t-...” he stopped, and Alfred’s hesitation was long enough to make Arthur impatient.

“Where were you?!” Arthur’s voice raised a little, and he reached down to force Alfred to look up at him, looking upset and angry. “I needed you back there! I needed you, and you left me!”

With wide eyes, Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but wasn’t able to decide what he wanted to say. “I-it’s-I’m-I can’t-” he struggled a little bit, and tried to gently push Arthur’s hands away by his wrists, but Arthur wouldn’t budge. “I-I’m sorry! I couldn’t look at her!” he finally got out.

Arthur was silent, taking forced deep breaths to calm himself down, but it wasn’t working. The sheer terror he had felt before was being replaced with unmatched fury. He roughly yanked his hands away and turned his back to Alfred. But, he couldn’t stand still, and started pacing back and forth. He glared at the floor with his hands laced behind his back.

Behind him, Alfred stood up, looking anguished. “A-Arthur, I...I’m sorry! She didn’t have legs, and I just...I c-couldn’t take it. I-I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that…” he trailed off, searching for words, and finally choked on “M-mutilated.”

Arthur stopped abruptly and faced Alfred with a snarl. “She’s dead!” he spat venomously. “What was done to her was horrendous, but I had to watch her become nothing more than ash!”

Alfred backed up a step, looking horrified. “I-I’m so sorry.” he stuttered weakly.

“And what could I tell the rest of the army?! They watched her burn with me!” Arthur continued on, the momentum of his anger carrying through. He gestured around wildly, and his voice rose with his frustration. “I didn’t know what to do, and neither did they! I couldn’t do anything, a single damned thing, and I’m supposed to guide them! They are my responsibility, especially when something this awful happens that we are witness to! What must they think of me?! I couldn’t handle it by myself, I needed you! Where were you when I needed you?!”

He didn’t even wait for an answer. He just let his question echo around the loud silence in the room. Breathing hard, he watched Alfred with wild eyes, alight with a livid spirit.

Alfred looked back at him, looking like he wasn’t sure if he was hurt or upset. Or both. “Arthur, I...I’m so sorry…” he apologised softly. Then, he hesitantly moved forward, reaching out to Arthur as if to take him into his arms.

His hand had just barely brushed Arthur’s shoulder when Arthur reacted. “Don’t you bloody touch me.” he seethed, whirling around to march out on the balcony.

“A-Arthur-!” Alfred flew out after him, holding up his hands. “Hey, A-Arthur, I think you should calm down, and c-come back inside…”

Turning around, Arthur was about to yell at Alfred, demanding a reason he need to stay, but suddenly found he couldn’t. Alfred flew right into him and held him tightly, not allowing him to back away. “Alfred, let me go! Let me…” he struggled roughly, but this was one battle he wouldn’t win. Still, he squirmed, trying to get away, so he could be anywhere but there. “Stop it, Alfred! Let me be!” despite his protests, Alfred held fast.

Arthur finally gave up after a little bit with a rough sigh, and Alfred relaxed his grip. The hug must have been to placate Arthur enough so that he wouldn’t try to fly away, and Arthur realised it had worked. He took a deep breath and put a hand on Alfred’s shoulder to signal he was calm, and Alfred adjusted his arms more comfortably around Arthur. After a moment, he rested his head in the crook of Arthur’s shoulder.

He sighed shakily. “I’m sorry I left you.” he murmured softly. “I’m so sorry I left you there alone to deal with her...I couldn’t handle seeing someone like that. I’ll try my best to prepare for it more in the future.”

“I’m sorry I overreacted.” Arthur replied in a similar tone, his arms finding their own way around Alfred. “I shouldn’t blame you for my ineptitude. You were frightened. I’ll try to control myself if I get that angry again.”

They stayed like that for a good while, standing in one another’s arms in comfortable silence. Arthur absently wondered how Alfred was able to so easily calm him down, and he found it both alarming and soothing that Alfred had such an ability. He supposed that was why he got so irrational in the first place; without Alfred to rely on, he had nothing to hold and fell down hard. Perhaps if Alfred had been there, he wouldn’t have been so shocked. Perhaps if Alfred had been there, merely touching the memory of her face as she burned wouldn’t startle him so much.

He shifted a little, turning his face so it was pressed into Alfred’s neck and shoulder. Her face...Her sorrowful, despairing face was something Arthur didn’t think he could ever forget. Or her words...She spent the last of her breath warning them, warning them of the Demonocracy’s plans…

“Alfred,” Arthur said urgently, suddenly remembering his last orders to his army. He pulled back and tilted Alfred’s head up enough so their foreheads were touching. With a hesitant, shaky breath, he spoke. “Alfred...She, er, just before she...died, she told us something very important. She, ah, warned us that the Demonocrats are...working on hunting and killing us off. I imagine since the base was destroyed, they’ve regrouped somewhere with a stronger force, and I...I think we have to leave.”

Frowning, Alfred blinked at Arthur, the alarm evident in his eyes. “Leave here? Where? Right now?”

Arthur sighed. “I think we have to leave the first circle.” he said quietly. “If the Demonocracy has reorganised, they won’t be easy to deal with and certainly won’t have too much trouble taking on our numbers. We don’t have to leave immediately, but we can’t stay for longer than a few hours. I don’t believe we’re safe here anymore…”

He trailed off, and they both slowly turned, and gazed forlornly inside their home. The lonely, mostly empty home that had become so familiar and so safe.

“...Oh.” Alfred finally uttered.

Guiltily, Arthur reached up to pull Alfred a little closer. “I’m sorry.” he said softly. “I’m afraid this is our last night here...”

Alfred took a shaky breath and tightened his hold on Arthur, nuzzling the side of his face. “I guess we better make the most of it, huh?” he only just managed a small, sad smile.

Arthur could only nod, facing Alfred with a remorseful smile of his own. “Yea.”

And then there was silence.

For awhile, they just watched the rain.

Arthur had taken down the curtain, opening up the view from the bed again, and they both laid in silence together. The sound of the rain was lazy and hushed, despite being so heavy. Watching with dull green eyes, Arthur couldn’t be bothered to move when he noticed some of the rain was getting the tile near the entrance wet.

He had transformed earlier, just after they’d come inside. Despite having his fluffy wings around him and Alfred up close, he was cold. Still, he didn’t feel inclined to move. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to feel comfortable in that moment. Just one movement in his arm to pull a blanket around himself, or just one phrase spoken to Alfred would fix it, and yet, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.

Laying in sombre peace was enough.

So he lay, suppressing his shivers and watching the rain, while Alfred dozed, his head comfortably resting on Arthur’s shoulder and chest. He kept thinking of her...Her round, smooth face, her doomed, conceding eyes, her long, dark hair matted with mud and surrounding her head...And of course the lack of a lower half. She was such a bloody mess that Arthur could hardly tell where the started and where she ended, though he knew very well she ended quite abruptly across her stomach. She was a perfect, tragically beautiful image of death by feeling.

And Arthur was still shaken by it.

The combination of the sight his third eye beheld and the unrelenting cold made him quiver with a grave chill. There was nothing he could have done, and knowing that only made him feel worse. He should have been able to do something, he should have been strong enough…

An arm suddenly wrapped around him, startling Arthur just slightly. His eyes flashed down at Alfred, who was looking up at him tiredly. “You can tell me if you’re cold,” he murmured, leaning heavily into Arthur in his attempt to wake up again. “‘M not mad at you or nothin’...

Arthur said nothing. In response, he just shifted to let Alfred move closer and sighed softly. The rain whispered at him, with it’s endless thrumming and pattering, and it became more incessant. Only a little. His eyes narrowed, dimly reflecting the thick, glittering rain and faintly showing the one question repeating itself in his head. ‘Why, why, why?’ So many of the wrongs he’d witnessed, so many of the betrayals ran through his mind, and yet he only had one question for them all.

His breath became slightly shaky at the realisation that the worlds were just cruel. That was his answer, the answer to everything he’d ever wanted to know. Of course, of course he knew the answer, but he still had to ask. Why? Why was all of this allowed to happen? Why is it just the worlds are cruel? Why are the worlds cruel? And why doesn’t anyone do anything to change it? Was he truly among the few that could see the injustice? Was he the only one not willing to live with it? Was something wrong with him?

Carefully, he smoothed Alfred’s hair beneath his hand, aware that his hands were trembling, as were his wings. The questions and the answers were starting to not make sense but the feeling was still the same. He could feel his expression fall with the grief.

After a moment, he shut his eyes and covered his face with his free hand, feeling like he had to cry.

Alfred shifted a little, and then noticed Arthur’s apparent distress. “Artie?” he asked softly, considerately, for the upset angel. “Hey, buddy, what’s the matter?” he turned over and leaned closer instinctively, as he seemed to be drawn to Arthur when he was sad. He wrapped his arms around him tightly and then relaxed against him again. Arthur could feel Alfred’s tail coming around his waist as well. Alfred couldn’t see his face, but it was obvious he thought Arthur was crying.

The problem was, Arthur realised, he wasn’t. He was very, very sad in that moment and wanted nothing more than to shed a few tears. But none came, and instead he raised his head to rest on Alfred’s shoulder. “Nothing. I’m fine.” he murmured softly.

Outside, the wind and the rain attempted a chilling duet.

The feeling ebbed away, like a sore, bothered bruise being left to heal. Arthur couldn’t quite bring himself to be alarmed, as if discovering he couldn’t cry anymore had tipped the scale, and he could no longer care. About anything. He felt disgusted with himself, and lonely despite the fact he was being held very intimately to Alfred. The cold and unforgiving air felt like it could freeze him.

“Hey.” Alfred murmured into him. The soft tone was enough to make Arthur listen. “Why don’t we go bathe together or something?”

“Together?” Arthur questioned with a frown, thoughts of a demon’s modesty making him unsure he understood. “Alfred, I’m not going to make you-”

Alfred startled him into silence by pressing his face to Arthur’s cheek, and tentatively nuzzling him. “I know you wouldn’t. That’s why I’m making myself. It is our last night here.” he pointed out, his voice taking on a lower tone as if trying to mask his nervousness. “I don’t know if I can ever feel this relaxed again. I’d like to make good use of it.”

Arthur thought about Alfred’s words the entire time they got ready to clean themselves. He had spoken unusually firmly, and Arthur didn’t know what it meant. Was he upset somehow? Had Arthur done something wrong? He didn’t know, and he felt guilty for a reason he couldn’t place. As he shed his tunic, he glanced and suddenly noticed he had goosebumps all over his arms. He only hesitated for a moment, but quickly got ready the rest of the way for their shower.

The water ran hot at first. and Arthur kept it that way until the room was so filled with steam that they could hardly see one another. Then, Arthur made the water cold so Alfred could get clean first.

He stood back, observing silently while Alfred scrubbed at his hair, and carefully took care of his wings. How faintly familiar it felt, to bare himself to someone else, and yet how foreign it must have felt, for Alfred to force himself to be so vulnerable in front of him. Arthur couldn’t quite bring himself to understand why Alfred could possibly be so nervous. He wished there was something he could do, but he supposed he was doing all he could by standing back.

After cleaning himself for a bit, Alfred went still for a while, just hanging his head under the flow of the cold water. His pale back gleamed in the faint light like platinum, nearly flawless if it weren’t for a few small scars scattered about. Arthur watched him curiously for any sign of movement, and began to think Alfred had fallen asleep while standing there. He smiled a little bit, suddenly filled with a very warm feeling.

“Arthur?” Alfred’s quiet voice startled Arthur a little.

Arthur swallowed thickly. “Yes?”

“Could you…” Alfred trailed off for a moment, and Arthur could hear him, see him take a deep breath. The light moved so delicately across his muscled back from just an action as simple as breathing in and out. Arthur was mesmerised. “C-could you, um...Wash my back?”

He responded after just a moment to process the request. “Of course.” he answered lowly, reaching for a cloth and soap. The water was cold, a shock to his hands, but he continued despite not wanting to be near it.

Approaching carefully, Arthur gently soaped up the cloth and began rubbing it smoothly up and down and across Alfred’s bare back. Upon contact, Alfred jumped a little, but held still. Arthur noticed Alfred wasn’t holding himself with as much confidence as usual. In fact, he seemed to be shaking a little.

The water slowly washed the soap away, in glittering trails down Alfred’s muscled back. Arthur’s hands replaced the cloth after a bit, ignoring the cold. “It’s just me.” he murmured to Alfred, touching him softly and trying to coax him into relaxing. He traced the indents of Alfred’s spine. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

Arthur watched, as Alfred swallowed nervously, and nodded shakily. “Y-yea.” he whispered, almost rasped in reply. “Okay.’

Gradually, Alfred did relax, and Arthur was glad when he could feel the tension just dissipate, washed away along with all the dirt of the day. He continued to feel Alfred, to explore this new intimacy, despite how the cold was beginning to make him shake. By the time Alfred was all clean, Arthur’s feathers were all puffed out and he shivered uncontrollably.

Alfred noticed and turned in Arthur’s arms, shifting close to where Arthur could feel the faint body heat from him. From that, they ended up in a tight embrace, laughing, at least until one of them managed to switch the water from cold to hot and turn so Arthur could get clean. Then, Alfred could try his hand at cleaning Arthur, which he did a little clumsily at first. Mostly because he discovered Arthur was a little ticklish on his sides.

As the steam rose, so did their moods, as they played around with one another under the water. It had to move out of the shower once Arthur figured out that Alfred was far more ticklish than he was.

Arthur’s wings and cheeks were rosy and warm by the time they stumbled back to the bed, after dressing(for Alfred’s sake) to continue playing and enjoying themselves. The tickling and the teasing kept Arthur distracted from the cold and the anticipation, the dread that merely lingered at the back of his mind. Somehow, he could keep himself from thinking about it too hard.

“Mmh, go to sleep,” Alfred murmured into him, a fading smile remaining as collateral damage, evidence of the last tickle assault he’d received. He relaxed when Arthur stroked his hair instead of tickling him again, and cuddled up close. His hands found their way to one of Arthur’s flushed wings, and he petted it absentmindedly. “If...If this is our last night here, I want us both to get plenty of sleep.”

Sighing appreciatively for the treatment his wings were getting, Arthur nodded. “Yes,” he agreed tiredly. “Alright, let’s...Let us...Sleep…” he began feeling himself fading out, and did his best to move up close to Alfred. His hands went from Alfred’s hair to his back, where he tried to keep them moving in a soothing motion.

Alfred closed his eyes, and worked with Arthur until they were comfortable. With a small movement of his hand, Arthur conjured a soft light around them, like an aura, and Alfred only opened his eyes a little to see it. The magic helped to cool Alfred, and warm Arthur, and didn’t require much thought at all.

But it still required thought. Arthur found that it helped Alfred in falling asleep quite quickly, but it wouldn’t be as easy with himself. He felt like he was floating; he was so tired, so sleepy and only vaguely conscious. Alfred’s even breathing was relaxing to listen to.

Arthur blinked slowly and looked outside at the cool night.

He noticed, curiously, that the light of his magic was reflecting faintly off glittering white tendrils out there, like rain but much slower.

He then realised he was seeing snow for the first time.

O~o~O

Francis felt like he was vibrating.

In his dizzied state, he could only partly register Feliciano’s horrified expression below him to his left, and lots of oddly coloured lights that looked nothing like the magical ones he knew.

On his leg, there was air moving, but despite that, it felt awfully warm and uncomfortable, and he was sweating because of it. He was also breathing very rapidly, perhaps to compensate for the blaring pain in both temples. His head felt very warm, almost like it was burning…

A blurry figure lowered itself into view, and seemed to grin wickedly at him. Involuntarily, Francis felt his muscles tense and his breathing become even harder. Shifting his arms and legs revealed to him that he was restrained and unable to move. Restrained quite tightly, actually.

“Terribly sorry to wake you.” the figure said, and Francis struggled to focus on the man before him. He could faintly see green and red, but perhaps those were just some of the blinking lights. “It is about time, I suppose. Don’t worry. It will be over soon.” the figure leered, and Francis choked on a gasp when he recognised the face of a demon, a red haired and green eyed demon that he thought he had come to know very well.

“Ar-Arthur?” he asked weakly, his voice hoarse and thick. “N-no, please...You don’t understand...I-I-”

Laughter interrupted him, loud, raucous laughter that make sharp chills run up Francis’s spine. The laughter went on uncontrollably, a delighted, horrible sound. “Don’t be ridiculous!” the voice giggled daintily, and a hand reached to stroke Francis’s matted hair. It was then the true colours finally came into focus, and Francis realised he was only seeing brown and silver before him, Camael. “Isn’t that simply wonderful, Feliciano? Look, he’s so delusional that he thought I was Arthur!”

The answer came out meekly, sounding choked. “Y-yes, sir.”

Francis winced through his panting, discovering that it was becoming very hard to breathe. He felt a pressure in his head, and the pain made his face twist with distress. “Feli, Feli I’m sorry,” he said in a thick voice. “I’m so, so sorry, Feli…”

Camael’s laughter came again, but quieter this time. Almost gentle. “Ah, dear Francis. You don’t know this feeling, do you? Of course not, frustration and regret are emotions unknown to angels. Especially good little angels like yourself. I suppose the time you’ve spent conspiring against me has led you to act without really thinking, as you have no experience with anger or with controlling yourself. I can forgive ignorance.” he smiled thoughtfully, and reached to touch Francis’s chin very softly. Like he was a fragile creature who could be carelessly broken. “However...If I did forgive you for what you attempted to do, surely you understand that would leave a poor example to the other skeptical ones like you. I’m very sorry for this, Francis, I really am. I am not angry with you, I’m just...Disappointed.”

Gasping as the lights suddenly got brighter, Francis shut his eyes as tightly as he could in response to the burning. But it was in vain; the lights still invaded his sight and his mind, and he started yelling out in pain. The burning became even more intense, and Francis yelled louder.

A calm voice murmured in his ear, ignoring his pained cries. “My poor little Francis. Do not worry, my child, as long as you endure this, no one else will have to.”

The voice left, and Francis screamed.

O~o~O

Arthur discovered very quickly that snow was not something to be trifled with.

Initially, he was fascinated with it, as it was a beautiful sight to behold. But upon finding out just how unpleasant it felt to touch, Arthur decided right then that he did not like snow.

Alfred didn’t seem bothered by it, in fact the temperature seemed very nice to him. Arthur was jealous at how easily he strode through it, how thoughtlessly he could touch it. It seemed it was going to be a whole new level of trying not to show his discomfort to the other demons in their group.

They gathered their things. Little time was spent saying private goodbyes to the place, as both Arthur and Alfred were too numb and tired to really feel much as they left. They flew off into the snowy city to find the rest of the army, led only by a hand-drawn map Arthur had. In the distance, Arthur could see their home fading in the thick weather. He didn’t look back for long.

The group was at Arthur’s alleyway, as he expected. Once they’d noticed Alfred and himself, they tried to offer smiles, but the mood was just as cold as the season. None of them could stop thinking of what they’d seen yesterday.

After drawing a diagram in the snow, Arthur did his best to explain the general direction they would be going, but he found that his mouth was becoming numb and words were becoming harder to form. He tried not to notice the concerned looks he was getting when he couldn’t quite pronounce ‘second circle.’

He told them they were going to find a place far from where they were, a good distance from any city or form of civilisation in hell. Ideally, they would find a place with several places to hide, and comfortable places to sleep. He would figure out a way to train them from there, but as long as they had sustainable food and water, they would be fine.

By the time he finished, he knew he was visibly shaking, and needed to find a way to calm down before anyone said anything. He looked around for a moment, and realised then that with the stark contrast of the snow, there was no hiding what was wrong. Everything around him was white, so every colour that made up his person were clear. Everyone’s eyes were on him.

“Arthur…” Basch said slowly. “Your cheeks and your nose are really red.”

A few others nodded in agreement, and Arthur’s eyes widened. He was certain he felt his blood finish freezing when he noticed Ivan’s cold look.

Alfred leapt into action, approaching Arthur quickly and brushing snow off his shoulders. “Haha, would you look at that! His lips are kinda blue too, isn’t that weird?” he laughed, forcing the biggest smile he could. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it!”

Some of the demons laughed along nervously, not quite understanding. But Arthur knew he was in deep trouble when Ivan’s expression didn’t change. His fist closed itself abruptly, and Alfred’s voice cut off with it. “Alfred.” he whispered. “Alfred, cut it out. We have to go, all of us.”

Still trying to keep up his smile, Alfred did well to hide his alarm nodded along, waiting for Arthur to release his fist, the magic silence before he tried to speak again. “Yea, we gotta go. He’s right everyone, are we all ready?” He looked around to make sure no one protested.

“There’s no going back from here,” Arthur warned quietly. And still, no one said anything. “Alright. Let’s go.”

O~o~O

It felt...suffocating.

He’d never felt anything like it before. He was hollow, like he’d been gutted completely. Nothing in him remained.

He choked on something in his hoarse throat.

Any begging or pleading was quelled on his tongue before he could even think to speak. His breath rattled lightly in his chest like a fluttering feather.

‘What’s h-happening...To me…?’

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S ALIVE!! ALIIIIVVEEEE!! Yes hello it's me, it's been at least a million years and I am back :'D 
> 
> So around this time last year, I was completing the Blackout arc and surging into this new Resistance arc. Finishing this arc was the plan this time, but I mean, things happened, I had a super intense block, and this took like four months to finish writing. So I'm not even halfway done with this arc but hopefully I'll be around more often to put some more work into it ^^'
> 
> I'm back in school! If that explains anything. I mean, it's only the most productive time of the year for me, which is why maybe I'm finally writing again. It's also the most stressful.
> 
> Catching up(I don't even remember when I published Ruled By Secrecy :O), I have started school again, learning more about myself and people around me, and I'm getting pretty good at my running! In fact, the reason I could finish this today is probably because I just got back from Regionals for Cross Country yesterday, and I qualified for State!!! Which is huge, I mean, I did it last year as well but it's still a pretty big accomplishment for someone in this state to be fast enough :D Anyway, so today is my off day after an entirely too stressful week and I'm finally able to relax and do what I want XD
> 
> I've had a good time in between the last chapter and this one, actually! I hope y'all have too, I miss being online :')
> 
> So! The songs for this and the next chapter have changed up so many times, it'd been hard deciding for sure what I want XD But this chapter is From the Inside, and, like a pumpkin this time of year, both Arthur and Francis are having their insides ripped out and replaced with something different. Arthur is discovering just how much he relies on Alfred, and Francis is learning about just how cruel the world can be...
> 
> Happy Halloween! I hope everyone dresses up to scare the Angelicans and Demonocrats away!! Especially Camael :O
> 
> **Disclaimer: I don't own Linkin Park, Hetalia, Halloween, Pumpkins, or dead demon ladies ^^'''
> 
> I'll try my best to be back soon, and I hope you have a wonderful Halloween from The Messenger! :D
> 
> -Madz


	27. Gymnopédie Part Two (Alfred's Experience)

O~o~O

'Whatever they say, these people are torn! Wild and bereft, assassin is born!"'

Newborn demons tended to make the easiest meals.

Not all demons were cannibals, but hardly any of them could pass up the chance for the warm, milky taste of an angel that still lingered on them. Newborns couldn't defend themselves, as they were still getting a grip and coming to terms with what was happening to them. It was quite a horrifying experience, after all, to realise just how desolate and alone and unloved it's possible to be. Heaven did its job just a little too well in masking the sheer evil of the rest of the worlds to its children. Or maybe the big angels just didn't want to face the challenge of explaining such large concepts to small minds. Especially not when some of those small minds would be sent to Hell anyway, where knowledge didn't mean anything and no one had to care.

It was a system of convenience, when seen from the outside. It was the reason most demons despised angels. The lucky ones.

Newborns were not strong, and were victims of uncontrollable emotions and the natural consequences of not getting enough to eat or sleep. They were at the very bottom of the order in Hell, the minnows to the sharks. They were like balloons, vulnerable and susceptible to any sort of influence like wind, compared to destructive wrecking balls all around them.

And the wind usually blew them in a very dark direction.

It was one big recurring cycle once an angel fell. Being filled with such relentless hate on such a massive scale made for a quick corruption, an easy trance formation built on nothing but the very feelings angels were taught not to have. The newborns started out by being hunted, tormented both by greedy, hungry demons, and realising their place in the universe. That sort of darkness just couldn't be put into words.

And it was always so bothersome, so annoying to have to fight off other demons delusional with hunger and still lose. Lose bits and pieces and a little more sanity each time, all too often. Having to understand such torture took a long time. Some of them would never fully understand or grasp it, because the answer became too frustrating to seek. Like sheep, they'd get caught up in the system and follow along blindly, with only hatred as the shepherd.

That was when the physical transformation really began, when they'd lose their feathers and their blood became cold. When their skin lost it's colour and their horns and tail would begin to appear.

Once they were strong enough to fight back, hateful enough to have the will, those newborns would start to overpower their attackers, and even win a few. Like creatures of intimidation, they'd(figuratively) puff out their feathers and try to strike fear into all those who crossed them. Fear was a tool they'd learn to harness swiftly. They felt they had to, of course, as it seemed to be the only way to get the other demons to leave them alone. Soon after fear was pain, once they got bold enough to try vengeance.

They all started out by thinking all they wanted was just to be alone to deal with their feelings. But, after getting a taste of blood, most of them found that their goals had changed. They wanted more, they wanted more of that thrill they got in the middle of a fight, more of that satisfaction they felt by being able to make another demon scream.

And then, the hunted became the hunters.

The cycle was never ending, if sometimes stalled and slow. The new demons sometimes would learn of Satan, of the circles and of earth. Of God's crimes and of freedom. Of independence. Some demons never fully made it out of the dark, and knew of nothing in the world but the fact that they existed and the fact that they hated everything and everyone they came across.

Alfred could never answer why there was so much hatred, not while he was lying on his back in the rain trying not to cry because he couldn't reach his injured wings to heal them. Not while he ran for his life in a storm, limping and flying clumsily for any form of cover. Not while his Rage gripped him and led him like a chain to the slaughterhouse, where instead he was the slaughterer.

He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, at least he didn't think. The Rage was making him unsure of who he really was, and it made him forget that he had ever been anywhere but Hell. Nothing existed anymore but the present where Alfred felt like he was going in circles. He did nothing but the same thing, hoping for different results, and it never worked. He was caught up in the system just like everyone else.

'Absent gods, and silent tyranny, we're going under, hypnotised by another puppeteer...'

His first kill left him giddy and sick. On shaking legs, he moved a distance away until he collapsed, unable to control his muscles out of shock. All that he could smell, all that he could see and taste was the blood, and he didn't quite know what to make of it. He didn't think he really wanted to make anything of it. From that distance, he watched the still body until it disappeared to its grave. And then he watched the spot where it used to be until the cold didn't bother him anymore.

Initially, he didn't think too much about the odd, hurt feeling he got when he injured or killed a demon. The general sentiment in Hell was that regret and mercy didn't exist. There wasn't a place for it in such a lawless world.

That was, until he met the angel.

After Rage had released him once again, Alfred ran away from the lifeless body and hid in a distant corner to nurse his wounds. He was filled with anger and confusion, such hate and such desolation, and it made his head pound. And the wounds on his chest and stomach were just too low for him to reach to heal, so he was frustrated, upset, and hurt. And frightened. So of course, realising he was being watched did not do him any favour.

He tried to growl, tried to back away. But the sound in his throat became choked, and he couldn't move very far from the entity before him.

It was a curious creature, really, pale and clad in white with big white wings and gold...Alfred squinted and tilted his head, vaguely recalling such an appearance. The creature, the...snow-white being came closer very slowly, very delicately. Step by step, he drew nearer. What struck Alfred most was the green, bright green eyes focused right on him, so sharp that Alfred felt like he was baring his blackened soul to the creature before him.

From those green eyes, a silver trail fell, the expression on the creature's face seeming pained. Very carefully, the creature knelt before Alfred once they were close enough to just reach out and touch one another.

Every signal in Alfred's mind screamed for him to run, to flee and get away as fast as he could, but the creature held him in place with nothing but a vague reassurance in his face. Something about him looked like he intended no harm. Alfred was cornered by nothing but this creature and its innocence.

There was a name for the creature, there had to be. A faint, rippling memory grazed Alfred's mind, of white robes and feathers and gold rings...Was it...Home? Hea...Heaven? Alfred was suddenly allowed a brief, dizzying glimpse into a world he had long forgotten. A world so distant in his past that he wondered how he remembered and how he could forget it at the same time. It was gone as quickly as it came, but it was enough to supply him with the word he was looking for.

What was an angel doing down here...?

The angel moved, startling Alfred, by reaching up to his own face and wiping away the silver trails. And then, meeting Alfred's eyes with a fearful resolution, the angel slowly reached for the demon's nearest wound.

Alfred held his breath, and shut his eyes very tightly. But after a moment, the pain in his chest began gently ebbing away.

Of course, Alfred had forgotten all of it. He relaxed just slightly, encouraging the angel to continue his work. Tears, those made up the silver trails, those tears fell from the angel's eyes, filling Alfred with a strange feeling. Something in him wanted to stop the tears, and he didn't understand why. If the tears healed him, if the tears were good, what about them made him want to stop the angel from having them?

Once the wounds were sealed, the angel leaned back and stood, spreading his big white wings. Alfred found himself blinking at the sheer gracefulness and simplicity of the angel. How was it possible for such a perfect being to exist? Had Alfred just been in the dark so long that he couldn't even begin to fathom the beauty of light? Was this kindness the difference between angels and demons? Just as the angel turned, Alfred opened his mouth, and called to him just before he could fly away.

"Why did you do that?"

The angel stopped, and the question was met with silence. For a moment, Alfred wondered if the angel had even understood him. But then, with the elegance of the moon revealing itself through the clouds, the angel turned back to look at him with those searing eyes again. He kept an even gaze on Alfred, taking a thoughtful moment, before he opened his mouth to reply.

"Because it was right."

And then he was gone. The angel flew off into the fog so fast that Alfred would have missed it had he blinked. That voice...The tone was so warm and calm, Alfred could believe for just one moment that he had been cared for...

''Cause you don't know what you've got, till it's gone...'

Alfred could never quite think the same way after the encounter with that angel.

It was like his brain had been rewired yet again, to a calmer, milder state. He found himself unable to reach that particular bliss while fighting like he could before, nor was he able to deny the guilt that ached in him when he hurt or killed someone. It started out as dull and irritating, but it eventually got so painful that it was impossible to ignore. Alfred couldn't stand causing suffering like he'd been doing for so long.

He began trying to actively control his Rage.

But it led to even worse situations.

"What a coward! What a pathetic coward!"

"Get up on your feet, yellow-belly!"

He'd tried to warn them, he really did. He begged for them to leave him alone, just like he was a newborn again. It was like he'd cycled back to square one, only a little wiser and a lot stronger. Too strong. He did all he could to keep them away, but it was rarely to any avail. Once they began to frustrate him, it all went downhill.

It only took one small falter for the rest of his control to fall away like dust. And the transformation was always painful; his spine stretched, his horns grew larger, his wings spread so far that it felt like the taut skin would break. From there, like the snapping of a rubber band, the rest of him erupted into shape, becoming larger and harder and rougher down to the very marrow of his bones.

By that point, anyone bearing witness would have fallen silent out of shock, curious as to what was happening and why he was yelling in pain. His voice became deeper very suddenly, his cries then were low, grating growls, and the sound became so loud that it felt like the entire space around them was vibrating.

And then, he would look up at his next victims with furious, blood-red eyes.

It seemed like the mess got bigger with every kill. He never went at them the same way; he'd go for a leg or a neck, and in the midst of it, he couldn't tell the difference between anyone. They all looked the same. Same colour, same shape. All he could feel was their faint body heat, or the cold blood as it spattered all around and all over him. He could taste it, too, and the taste was revolting but he couldn't stop. He couldn't think, he couldn't feel anything besides the primal desire to kill, to stop the life in anyone who dared to cross him.

The more he tried to control it, the worse it got. It seemed he needed more to get him to stop if he tried to hold it off, and the transformation was more dramatic and painful the more he attempted to delay it. If he let it happen, he might only have to kill one or two demons. But if he waited, if he held it off and fought it, it would still overtake him anyway and he'd end up hunting for a much larger number.

These were possibly the hardest years of his life. He didn't think about his past anymore, and almost completely forgot about what he'd been promised by Heaven. Obviously, he didn't deserve to go back after killing so much. All that mattered was that angel that had saved him that one time...He wanted to feel like that again, like he wasn't a monster. He wanted to feel like he wasn't alone. Like his life was worth something.

'It's unnatural selection, and I want the truth!'

So he started trying to make his way out of the circle he was in. He'd heard somewhere that the closer he could get to purgatory, the less he would hurt. That idea appealed to him a lot.

He put together little bits and pieces, sometimes disconnected at first until they could make sense. The only way he knew how to learn was to listen to the people around him. Most of the time, he could only get pointed in the general direction of where he wanted to go. He wasn't exactly clever about finding answers; he didn't really know how to be. Not without accidentally threatening someone, and he tried very hard not to do anything like that. He also avoided fights at all costs. That way, the only demons he killed were the ones who provoked him.

The rains never really stopped, and it was very difficult to fly. Alfred had never quite mastered using his wings in the fifth circle, so most of his progress was made by marching through the dense, flooded streets. It wasn't like when he was little; he was bigger now, and older. Marked by age and weighed down by guilt.

It was so humid at times that Alfred felt like he could barely breathe. He didn't know how the air could manage to be so thick and yet so cold...His heart would struggle shallowly in his chest, and it took all he had to keep marching on. All he had to do to remind himself why he was still going was to remember the angel.

It wasn't until he'd reached the boundary that he realised just how useful his wings could be. The only way he knew to go through was by climbing the mountain of a wall that separated the wrathful from the greedy. It was steep and perilous, with no room to think about anything other than the risk of falling. The wet, craggy wall could not be trusted, as the surface was slick and it could give out at any moment.

The first time he started to climb it, he fell off within the night, not even halfway to the top. A loud, grating screech had resounded above him, startling him so much that he lost his grip and went tumbling to the bottom. He landed heavily, hurt, and angry and upset, but still determined to keep trying. Remember the angel.

He wasn't the only one trying to climb it, of course. The wall was absolutely massive and demons from all around were trying to climb to escape the rainy punishment of the fifth circle. It seemed the physical demands it took to get out of the circle were great for a reason, and Alfred began to wonder if making over meant he was worthy of being forgiven for his sins. He began to climb again.

The higher he got, the worse the conditions seemed to be. His third try on the second night got him only metres away from the top, but he underestimated a reach and his hand slipped. The rain was always too heavy for him to try flying back up once he started falling.

Once he could catch his breath, he'd try again, not stopping for sleep or to eat. Remember the angel. On the third night, he tried taking off his gloves to get a better grip. With numb hands and blue fingers, he forced himself up as far as he could go. He tried to use his wings to assist his climb, but all it did was make him more tired. If he stood still too long, he'd slip anyway. That time, it was his shoes that didn't give him the traction he needed, and he struck his jaw on a protruding rock on the way down. Out of sheer anger, as soon as he landed in the freezing, murky water, Alfred yelled and Raged on nothing in particular.

Taking off his shoes on the fourth night helped a little more; he was able to at least get above the halfway point regularly then, but the rain still did him no favour. He couldn't feel his fingers or toes by the time he was that far up, and the his palms and soles were so calloused, so cut up that sometimes he only slipped because it stung too much to get a grip.

That time, he landed in a defeated heap, and did nothing but curse himself for hours on end. But he was exhausted, and fell asleep in the water not long after he had no words left. His rest was dreamless and blank, but so needed and deep that Alfred forgot where he was when he became aware of the worlds again. When he got up on the fifth night, he hunted for a poor, unsuspecting soul to eat before he got back to the wall. "Remember the angel...Remember the angel..." he chanted softly to himself as he climbed up once more.

Circumstance kept him from getting close to the top. It seemed like conditions would remain unfavourable for him forever, but he was too stubborn and too persistent to let things like fate get in his way. He had to get over, and he would even if it was the last thing he did. He still fell, but he still managed to convince himself to get up and try again.

On the sixth night, he tried taking off his shirt to free his arms. He thought with the ability to reach out that much farther, and to be able to use his wings without restraint, he just might be able to get over. And he nearly did; despite the cold and the numbness in his arms, he made it just a couple of metres from the top before he shivered just a little too hard, causing his muscles to seize up and make him lose his grip.

He very nearly lost his temper then, but he managed to keep his head by some miracle. The rain came down harder. But he knew he needed to be rested and full before he could try again.

'Sing for Absolution, I will be singing, and falling from your grace...'

On the seventh night, he repeated the one thought in his head that mattered, and got to climbing again.

Remember the angel.

Step by step, rock by rock, Alfred tested his grip each time and made sure his feet wouldn't slip out from under him. On the longer reaches, he'd flap his wings and lash out his tail for balance. He was careful with how fast he went and how often he resorted to his wings.

Remember the angel.

The rain made for some rocks to be difficult to grab onto, and it would take several moments with numb fingers, whispered self assurances, and straining muscles just to get above them. But he could do it. When the wind got too strong for him to move, Alfred would grip the rocks as tightly as he could with stinging fingers and toes, and his back would ache after keeping him up for so long, but he would grit his teeth and wait there until he could move again.

Remember the angel.

Sometimes he had to wait for what felt like hours, and as long as it was safe, he'd use the time to sharpen the weak claws on his wings. He hadn't thought of using his wings like that before, but he realised if he could get them sharp enough, he'd have two more limbs to work with his arms. After enough time getting toughened up from the rough rocks, he was finally able to extend his reach without wasting precious breath.

Distantly, he could hear the wails and howls of those who fell like he had so many times before. But, not wanting to be like them anymore, Alfred kept on climbing with a newly discovered determination he didn't know he had in him. It was then he realised that if he wanted to get over the wall, he couldn't rely on chance or conditions. He had to do it on his own.

Remember the angel.

Only a few metres from the top, Alfred stopped, afraid he was going to fall. He was shaking, his muscles exhausted from having kept up for so long. But he was nearly there. "Remember the angel..." he whispered hoarsely, and kept on climbing.

His hand slipped and he cried out. But the claws in his wings out of instinct reached forward and latched onto the wall before he could lose his balance completely. Heart pounding, Alfred reached up again and continued, so close to the end that he could just feel it. "Remember the angel, remember the angel, remember the angel!" he nearly sobbed, reaching desperately for the top.

A hand reached it first, then a wing, and then a leg. He hauled himself over the edge, and rolled a little away from the wall he'd just scaled.

For a moment, he just breathed, his muscles sore and stinging as he just lay there under the dark sky.

And then, he realised it wasn't raining.

He sat up immediately and looked around. He was at the top! He'd finally done it! And there wasn't any rain in the next circle...Alfred was still cold, but he would be able to live.

Despite how exhausted he was, he was too excited to be able to get any rest, so he stood up slowly and started walking in the direction he'd been going from the start.

Remember the angel.

He began jogging, and then running faster in a hurry. And finally, he started trying to use his wings properly because it felt like for the first time in his life he was actually dry and not being pelted by the freezing rain. In his delight, he let out a triumphant howl of victory. For once, he was on his way to doing something good.

It didn't take him long to come across the other edge of the wall. He didn't hesitate to jump; he'd fallen far too many times for him to be afraid anymore.

The fourth circle wasn't nearly as bad as the fifth. Alfred finally learned how to fly; the entire circle was basically a giant, gradual hill upward, and it was all dry. Alfred observed the demons around the area, who were caught up in protecting their possessions and trying to take them up the hill. But the weight they tried to push kept them from making it very far. Alfred wondered why they treasured such material things so much.

They were very strange things too, things that could be replaced easily. But Alfred supposed that time had placed much more value on those items to those demons that they felt they just couldn't leave any of it behind. Alfred discovered he wasn't very sentimental at all; he'd willingly left his gloves and shoes and shirt back in the fifth circle.

The third circle made Alfred think he'd gone the wrong direction, but somehow he knew he was in a different place. The smell was strange, and the rain was much colder. The demons who resided in the third circle were also greedy, but for nourishment rather than possession. Alfred encountered more cannibals than he had in the fifth circle, but none of them bothered him because he was flying too fast for them to keep up. The rain wasn't as hard as it was in the fifth circle, and he at least had a handle of how to fly around in it. The more Alfred saw, the more he could tell that the smell was a combination of stomach acid and rotting corpses. There was always a faint smell of that where he was from anyway, but seeing it just made it all worse.

Once a body was completely dead and devoid of life, it would disappear to be buried by magic. That was what Alfred had learned in the fifth circle. But, in the third circle, he realised the reason he could still see all the bodies was because some part of them was still alive, and they had been left to rot until their hearts would finally give out. It was truly a very strange and horrible punishment.

The second circle was probably the most uncomfortable. The winds carried him, and whipped him back and forth until he could develop the strength to fight it. The demons there were very loving, and Alfred tried to avoid them as much as he could because they would get too close to him for comfort. Generally very touchy-feely, they sometimes engaged in an odd dance of sorts that Alfred didn't understand. It seemed to be very pleasurable for demons who took part. Alfred didn't care to figure out what it was, and kept on his way as much as he could against the harsh wind.

He also found a way to get clothes again, just because the demons got far too close and stared too much for him to want to go without a shirt anymore.

It was only when he had crossed the boundary to the first circle that Alfred heard of the Demonocracy, the order of government over ungovernable creatures.

It was a strange system, really. Almost everyone in the first circle was required to serve the Demonocracy, doing some sort of work but for a purpose that no one ever seemed quite able to explain.

Almost as soon as he arrived, he was given a uniform, assigned a place to live, and placed with a low class to train with. It was strange to have a form of routine after living in a lawless place for so long. But it wasn't all that bad. He discovered quickly that the more he held back in this place, the less he had to engage in fights that would invoke his Rage. As long as no one thought he was particularly strong, everything would be fine.

He thought about that angel occasionally, and wondered what he was thinking about, what he was doing right then. Did he ever have to fight for his life? Did he know what it was to kill? Alfred didn't think so, but he still hoped the angel wouldn't have to.

Working for the Demonocracy took his mind off his troubles. He didn't have to think too hard, and he could stay in one place for as long as he wanted. He could also stay in shape, stay on his toes and live relatively peacefully. Unlike the fifth circle, he hardly ever had to worry about not being able to eat or sleep.

He was finally able to control his Rage to some degree. Sometimes, it would come up again, but there wasn't as much damage as there was before. Despite the fact there were still victims, he didn't feel nearly as bad about it now that there were others around who knew what to expect.

It was very easy to forget that he had ever wanted more when no one bothered him, no one needed anything and he didn't have to do much but work a little.

But one day, he heard of a demon rising up in the ranks of the army who they called Paranomia...

'Hope decays, generations disappear, washed away, as a nation simply stares...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! I'm finally on break for Thanksgiving, so I actually have time to write! XD So this origins chapter was a little less about sobbing and more about loudly rooting for Alfred while he tries to dig himself out of Hell :')
> 
> I feel like "Remember the Angel" would look great on a T-shirt or something XD Because, for Alfred, remembering the angel is a sort of metaphor for anyone's reason for doing anything. It's not something like remember the Alamo or whatever, but to me it's something a little deeper and personal. For Alfred, meeting that angel was a life-changing event; it altered everything in his mind and gave him something to go out and work for. I believe we all have a moment like that in our lives, where everything changed and suddenly we could see what we wanted and what we needed to do. So that leads me to ask, what's your angel? :D
> 
> It kinda makes me sad to think that Arthur has always been a guiding light to Alfred, and then when they were finally reunited, Arthur actually had completely forgotten about Alfred at least until he was prompted to remember :')
> 
> There are only three Gymnopédies! So that means only one more chapter of Alfred's origins XD And, if you're familiar with either U2 or William Blake, there's nothing after Innocence and Experience. So it'll be more of a present time thing in the story, a summary of Alfred's thoughts on the events of Messenger so far. We've been following Arthur this whole time, so I think it's a nice little mix to add in where Alfred stands :D
> 
> Hopefully I'll have time for a Christmas special again this year :D I have a plan for it, I just don't know how it'll fit within the arc because I definitely won't finish the Resistance arc before the new year :/ Oh well XD
> 
> Disclaimer** I don't own Hetalia, Erik Satie's super cool music, the phrase Remember the Alamo, or basically anything really tbh except the writing and interpretations of songs and stuff...idk
> 
> The artist of the cover image is Makoyana!! She's amazing, please go follow both for whimsical art and fantastic stories!!!
> 
> Thank you for reading!!! 
> 
> ~Madz


	28. When I Look at the World

O~o~O

It was snowing.

People all over the world were overcome with warmth and generosity, like always, giving entire nations such a lovely vibe. Music seemed to be emanating just from the sheer bliss of the young and the old, and a slight, excited tension came from anticipation for the holidays they waited for. Streets glittered with colourful lights, televisions flickered late with celebrations, and the cold could never quite get to the people who celebrated these holidays.

Well, sort of.

The day had barely begun, and all through the worlds both above and below, desolate souls whispered bitterly of their circumstance. Green eyes watched upon them with a cold look.

Alfred finally found Arthur perched high on the top a bridge, gazing into the water and feeling numb to the snow falling all around him. He rested his chin on one knee while his other leg dangled down, and his wings were angled up as if he were purposefully trying to catch as much of the freezing wind as possible. This year he had fixed his tunic so it was a little warmer, with long sleeves to cover his limbs and slippers to protect his feet. And though he had expected Alfred to find him, he didn’t expect to have the leather jacket Alfred always wore to be immediately given to him.

He looked at it for a moment, before his gaze flickered back to the water. Without a word, he accepted the offer and put his arms through the sleeves. There wasn’t a way for his giant, white angel wings to fit through the slits in the back so as usual, he had to wear it backwards. It still made him warmer that way. Alfred sat down beside him once he’d put it on.

There was a little while of silence between them. The river far below them ached and swelled, and Arthur seemed to scrutinise it very carefully like he was trying to make out some invisible text down there. Alfred looked around, up at the dull sky, the highway to their left, the vibrant city to their right. All about the world, no matter what he saw, his big blue eyes lit up with every new sight to take in.

Ever since that first Christmas they’d spent together, Alfred looked forward to seeing December on earth once again. Something had sparked in him, something Arthur could only compare to the look of wonder a child had when they saw snow for the first time. Then, if he couldn’t get any closer to being an actual child, all year he’d occasionally mention being excited for December, and as the month got closer, he’d excitedly ask Arthur to tell him more about it all.

Arthur would tell him about the traditions, and about the three major holidays celebrated as well as around a dozen others throughout the month. Then he would explain where they fit in to all of the faiths of earth. He didn’t really want to get into how they interacted with each other, so he’d avoid questions about that by suggesting Alfred do something traditional for Hanukkah or something along those lines. It usually worked, to get his mind off of world conflict, at least. Though, Alfred did still understand there was lots of religious tension in the world. He just didn’t like to think about it very much.

Alfred decided to break the silence after he got bored, which didn’t take long. “Your nose is really red. That’s how I know you’re cold.” he hummed thoughtfully. “What are you doing out here?”

Taking a big breath, Arthur didn’t move his intense stare from the water. “...I willed three people away from the edge.” he muttered in a low voice. He didn’t say anything after, letting the silence admit he’d done nothing else. Normally he’d be running around, blessing every soul who needed an angel that he could reach, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. Not when he knew that hoping he could get everyone was futile.

Taking it in stride, Alfred nodded, seeming to consider it impressive. “Well hey, that’s three people still alive today that wouldn’t have been if we were somewhere else.”

“Three miserable people still alive.” Arthur corrected in a dull mumble. 

Alfred nudged Arthur’s shoulder and laughed gently at him. “Hey, maybe you set them up on a path that’ll change the way they see life! You never know!” he told Arthur optimistically.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but tried to smile for Alfred. “Not likely.” he said to himself, following Alfred to a standing position by using his wings to balance himself on the edge. “Do you want to try?”

“Try what?”

“Blessing someone.” Arthur elaborated. “Didn’t you want to do that this year?”

A little bashfully, Alfred ducked his head a bit and his pale cheeks blushed slightly. “Oh, uh, well yea. I mean, if it’s okay, I just- that is, um, only if it’s alright, and uh if it doesn’t, you know-” he started babbling a little bit. “I don’t know if it, uh, works that way, so um-”

A chuckle interrupted him. Arthur was smiling in vague, distant amusement and ruffled Alfred’s hair. “Of course it’s alright. Let’s go, I am sure you’ll be able to bless just as I can.” His mind wasn’t on blessing, however; it was on Alfred. He looked very carefully into Alfred’s eyes and yet still seemed distracted and faraway. He tried to see what he could find in the demon’s blue eyes, as blue as the half-frozen river below them. Was there something new? Something reborn? Something taken?

He continued to search as they flew through the lands of earth. Guided by the golden compass Arthur conjured for them, they sought after souls who hadn’t seen an angel just yet. Souls who slept alone.

Alfred was very passionate about finding as many as they could, and it was as if their roles had reversed since last year; Arthur was the one following along curiously, watching Alfred very carefully and wondering, finding questions he’d never needed to ask before.

But those questions he’d keep to himself. He already knew what answers he’d get if he asked.

They found together that demons were capable of blessing, but it took a lot of concentration and a lot of help from an angel to manage it. Alfred was able to bless many different souls all across the world, but it took a lot out of him. To Arthur’s interest, the effort didn’t detract from Alfred’s determination to continue trying to get everyone he could reach. And with that kind of enthusiasm, that meant they were going for a long time.

By the time it was dark and that river had frozen over, Arthur was the one who was all spent, feeling overworked. Each time they had stopped, Alfred marveled over decorations, snow, traditions, people, music, anything in the world that had to do with the holidays. And it was exhausting. Arthur was already tired of it and ready to move on with the new year. They circled back to the bridge they had started the day on, and then moved further in the centre of the city, the heart of celebration now quite because everyone was home just in time. The midnight bells rang, signalling the start of the holiday.

He felt bad when he interrupted Alfred on a long tangent he wasn’t even listening to, something about Christmas and Santa Claus probably. But he couldn’t take much more of Alfred’s pure joy. “Oi. Sorry. Let’s be done, alright? I’m tired, we’ve gotten a lot as it is.”

The slightly hurt expression on Alfred’s face upon realising Arthur hadn’t been listening didn’t go unnoticed, but it disappeared very quickly to be replaced with a broad smile. “Hey, what’s up with you? I thought you love this holiday! Are you just not feeling it? What’s the matter?” he came closer, putting his hand on Arthur’s shoulder and looking at him with such heartfelt concern that Arthur suddenly couldn’t feel the need to lie to him like he’d wanted to.

Looking into his eyes, Arthur raised a hand to Alfred’s cheek and held it there. “What...What is it that you see?” he inquired softly. “What is it that makes you feel so much? In here…” he moved the hand down over Alfred’s heart, where it thrummed faintly as a demon’s heart always did. 

Alfred was silent, but there was a peculiar warmth in his expression that encouraged Arthur to go on. Perhaps he didn’t fully understand, but he was trying to. He moved his own hand over Arthur’s.

But Arthur sighed, still looking, still searching for something in Alfred. “I don’t know what has happened. I used to feel like you, I used to love this month with equal passion and equal desire to heal the wounds of the year...But now I can’t, with or without you. What do you see? All I can see and hear and feel is suffering and it isn’t my place to change it. The worlds are cruel to everyone, and I can’t change anything. It’s not fair if I do. What do you see in the world that’s so beautiful? I can’t see what you see anymore…”

In a moment, Alfred had moved closer and embraced Arthur fiercely, as if he could convey all he felt into the angel. “I feel like I can see everything.” he murmured in Arthur’s ear. “It’s beautiful, it’s just gorgeous! I see the good in all of the people, I see the same thing a child does, I see the same thing every happy, joyful person sees. I see love and truth, I see hope and faith...And it’s just great.”

“But what about every lonely child?” Arthur asked after a moment. “What of the hatred and the lies? The wretched and the lost? Not everyone is happy on this day. Not everyone sees what you see. Not them, not me.” his voice caught with the sudden annoyance he felt, a bitter frustration towards Alfred’s ignorance, his insensitivity to the worlds. But at the same time, he felt it towards himself, for not being able to understand the other side of it too. Even though he used to.

Alfred smiled and shook his head, curling his fingers through Arthur’s wings, and then through his hair very fondly. “I don’t know how you can’t see, or how I couldn’t before...Yes, there is suffering, but...There’s also good, and where that good exists, I think it lights up some of the dark. Some of it, at least enough to keep it alive. I mean, without the dark, you wouldn’t know there were stars.”

His words only furthered Arthur’s certainty that there was something he was missing, something he couldn’t wrap his head around anymore. Something was gone, and he didn’t know how. Something in them both had changed.

He brought his hands up to Alfred’s head and gently pulled him down to his shoulder, not sure if the act was out of pity or indifference. So easily, Alfred gave into him and leaned in, and just for a moment Arthur thought he saw a glimpse of the answer. But it faded, and all Arthur could feel was a faint warmth from knowing Alfred trusted him so much. “Not everyone can see them, the stars.” he murmured. “And some don’t think they are beautiful. You still haven’t really told me what you see.”

With an affectionate lean into Arthur, Alfred then pulled back so he could look at him, and then held Arthur’s face in his hands. “It’s not really what I see as much as what I saw. And what continues to help me learn, you know?” he grinned.

Arthur frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

All he got for a moment was a silent, tender smile, but a disorganised look in his eyes. “It’s...Well, it’s you.” he shrugged. “I think you’re responsible for most of my beliefs, my dreams...Most of what I want and what I’ve learned. You continue to teach me how to see, so I think the best way to put it is I see you.”

“Me?” Arthur asked. He didn’t understand, how could he have such a heavy influence on Alfred? They hadn’t known each other for long enough...Had they? Alfred was looking at him, he knew something Arthur didn’t, but it was something he wouldn’t disclose. It was just something for him to know. Narrowing his eyes with a teasingly suspicious smirk, he prodded Alfred’s shoulder. “What’s that? I know that look.”

He shook his head. “It’s not important.” he assured. “Just a thing from when I was younger, I used to always tell myself to remember the angel.”

Arthur blinked blankly at him, and then nodded along. “Ah. I see.”

Smiling knowingly at him, Alfred nodded. “So what do you see? What do you see that makes it not yours to change?”

“I see the world.” Arthur answered simply, without hesitation. “I see everything. I feel nothing but I can see pain. I can see the imperfection, the futility, the hopelessness. Once I felt the need to change it all, but...Now I think it’s not...My responsibility. You understand? It’s not my place to change how someone feels about the world. It’s not up to me to suddenly make them decide to be happy. Not even God can tell anyone what to feel...It’s up to the person themselves. Happiness is a choice, not a circumstance.”

Alfred was quiet, looking down at the white ground, and then back up to Arthur. “So I don’t think we see that differently. There’s just...You know, different perspectives.”

“We teach each other. That’s what it is.” Arthur nodded. “That’s...The way it’s supposed to be.” he looked towards the Christmas tree, lit so innocently to the cold night. A perfect symbol of strength. He could see candles and toys, smiles, and love. He could also see snow and loneliness, and they coexisted quite starkly. Arthur realised Alfred was right; they had come to the same conclusion.

“We need each other.”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back for a second Christmas special!! Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanza! I still have two and a half hours before Christmas is over for me so I hope I'm in time but also haha Happy Holidays in general!! I don't know all of them but I wish I did, December is the perfect time to have a holiday, isn't it?
> 
> Sorry I keep coming and going...Writing is difficult XD But it's still really fun!
> 
> I hope you're having a good holiday! And this chapter holds an important message for me...I hope it means something to you now as well. Like last year, it's a U2 song, and it's a gorgeously sad song about faith and how different people see the world. In this case, Arthur and Alfred have reversed perspectives since last year; Arthur sees the more pessimistic way a demon would, and Alfred sees the very much optimistic way an angel might. Of course, in the story there's a very good reason for that, but metaphorically, it was meant to represent two of the perspectives that mean a lot in our modern age today. There's good and bad to both sides, and neither are necessarily correct. There is no right answer for a question like that. 
> 
> I could get into it more but I'm running out of time XD The song is lovely though, I hope you can listen and learn from it as I did!!
> 
> So in my life, Track season is about to start and I'm so ready! I feel stronger and more free than ever. I've also recently made a new friend, and honestly, finding someone who has a similar mind to you is one of the most beautiful things in the world. Connecting with someone is just so liberating. I hope you know someone like that, everyone deserves to know such a blessing in life.
> 
> Life! It's so wonderful and painful and I don't know what I'd do without the mountains and valleys we travel through. Christmas has never felt the same for me, and I honestly don't think I'll ever get in the Christmas spirit like I used to. There was a figure in my family who inspired it in me, but he's gone now...But it's okay, I still love Christmas as it is. No matter what you celebrate, I hope if you were sad you were blessed, and if you were happy then you helped bless others around you.
> 
> Disclaimer** I don't own Hetalia, U2, uhh my new friend, Denny's, Santa, other holidays, haha!!
> 
> The cover image was drawn by Makoyana! Y'all should definitely check her out, she's absolutely amazing!
> 
> May the cactus be with you!! Wait that's a Cross Country thing on my team XD My new favourite picture is this one of a little cactus holding Captain America's shield! Cactus America!! How cute is that XD
> 
> ~Madz


	29. In Between Part One

O~o~O

Time passed as if it were fighting through molasses.

“Let’s go.” Arthur repeated, his voice a little less sure than it was before. He looked away from Ivan, who was eyeing him with a cold expression. But he could still feel Ivan’s dark eyes digging into the back of his head, prodding him with accusation. There was nothing he could say or do that wouldn’t make the situation even worse, and he knew Alfred was becoming desperate to help when he went silent trying to think of something to say.

No one moved, everyone seemed focused on Ivan’s apparent challenge to Arthur, and Arthur couldn’t ignore it when not a single demon made a move to take off with him. Slowly, he steeled himself and turned around to face Ivan, bearing that harsh look he was getting. All it did was make Alfred a little more distressed.

The tense period of silence did nothing for him. “H-hey, what are we waiting for?” Alfred laughed nervously. “Artie’s just a little cold, right? There’s nothing wrong with that! I think we should just get going so we’re not around when the Demonocracy comes looking for-”

“I think now’s a good time we ask Paranomia what he’s hiding from us.” Ivan spat, approaching Arthur until they were face-to-face, their noses nearly touching. Startled, the other demons backed away a few steps, trapping them both in a circle where everything they did was watched upon. “I’ve had enough of you and all of your lies.”

Arthur kept his gaze steady and cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said lowly, venomously.

Ivan snarled, wrinkling his nose and revealing his fangs. Both Arthur and Ivan could hear Alfred trying to coax them apart, but nothing could break the challenge, not then. Arthur struggled to not turn and tell Alfred it was okay, that he could handle it. But he couldn’t shake the sinking dread in his gut that this wasn’t going to end well. The air felt heavier and colder, and the skies above them darkened and swelled.

His mind went through countless scenarios, trying to think his way out of the direction he knew they were headed. But he couldn’t concentrate with Alfred trying to get their attention, so he had no choice but to pretend to crack his knuckles to disguise the correlation of his closing his fist to Alfred’s sudden silence, and hope no one would think too much about the magic they could probably sense. For a moment, he reflected on how grateful he was that he learned how to make Alfred shut up. And still, Ivan persisted. “That is what a liar would say.” he spat, raising his wings.

Arthur responded by raising his chin and puffing out his chest, eyes flashing with indignance. “I do not need to listen to your blind accusations.” he sniffed to resist a sneeze from the cold and opened his fist once Alfred got the point to be quiet. Then, he turned around, aiming to stalk out of the circle. But none of the demons moved for him.

“Blind?!” Ivan bristled, suddenly rushing forward. “It is you who is blind! You cannot see what you are becoming!” Arthur turned around just in time to see Ivan lunging for him.

“Don’t lay a hand on him, goddammit!”

Both Arthur and Ivan stopped in mid attack to see Alfred, practically trembling with anger, and now everyone’s eyes were on him. Arthur was the first to recognise that wild look in his eyes, and his heart missed a beat. Alfred didn’t seem sure if he should approach or back away, but the way he was looking at Ivan made it clear he would like nothing more than to rip him to shreds.

Arthur took a shaky breath, and his eyes flickered to Ivan. “We will finish this later.” he muttered, before turning to carefully go to Alfred. Then, it seemed to click for everyone else what was happening, because the demons began murmuring nervously and backing away, creating a wider circle.

Still feeling Ivan staring at him, Arthur tried his best to focus on just Alfred, while his wings and legs tensed, and a cold sweat formed along his forehead. The demon before him was absolutely livid, not moving his hard stare from Ivan. Carefully, Arthur walked through the tension and swallowed nervously when he was close enough to touch Alfred. “Oi, listen to me. Just me. It’s okay, everything’s fine. I’m not hurt, see?” he reached out with a shaking hand to Alfred’s. He could hardly hear himself over the blood roaring in his ears. “Take my hand, Alfred, I promise it’s okay.”

For just a moment, he was convinced Alfred wasn’t going to take his hand. He was taking long, shuddering breaths, and each one only created more agitation in the demons around them. But, after shutting his eyes tightly, and shaking his head faintly from side to side, he finally rested his hand in Arthur’s.

“Good, good,” Arthur breathed, his pounding heart finally slowing. He recognised that Alfred was doing his best to convey that it was safe for Arthur, and now all he had to do was calm him down enough so it was safe for everyone else too. That could only be done if Arthur was patient and relaxed himself. So, he swallowed any doubts in himself and fears of the situation waiting for him. He stepped closer so he could force Alfred to focus on him and him only. “Listen to me, Alfred, please, everything’s fine. I’m okay, you’re okay, we can do this, yes? I’m with you, we’re in this together.” he murmured softly.

Alfred opened his eyes in an incredibly intense look right at Arthur, and finally gave a begrudging nod. Arthur smiled a little when Alfred then lowered his eyes to the ground and petulantly shifted closer, so Arthur heaved a relieved sigh and pulled Alfred’s head down to his shoulder to embrace him. 

“...How did you do that?” Arthur heard Ludwig’s voice speak up behind them, quiet and reluctant. Trying to keep himself and Alfred serene and calm, Arthur closed his eyes and smiled, holding Alfred firmly in his arms. “He was about to...There’s no way anything could have stopped it…”

There were some general noises of agreement and confusion. Rage was a rare thing to witness, and no one had ever seen it stopped before, Arthur realised, and set his jaw when he came to realisation that he was really only making his case worse by saving everyone. But he just couldn’t put everyone in danger...Though, he didn’t know if it was actually possible to stop Rage once it started. Alfred had once explained something along those lines to him but he couldn’t quite remember then…

Ludwig and Ivan were discussing something behind them too quietly for Arthur to hear. “Arthur,” Alfred whispered, making Arthur look down. “Arthur, I...I have to leave, but I can’t, because if I leave they might…”

Arthur shook his head, and frowned skeptically. “What do you mean?” Alfred let out a breath he was holding in and held on to Arthur like he was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I don’t think you stopped it...But I can’t leave you here to them.” he reiterated more stiffly this time, gritting his teeth. “I can still feel it there...Urgh…”

Startled, Arthur quickly tried to figure out what their options were, and started petting Alfred’s head a little roughly without meaning to. They couldn’t both leave, because that would only make Ivan suspect them more and possibly split up the group at the worst possible time to lose anyone. Alfred had a point; they couldn’t separate because either Alfred raged on the army or the army possibly ganged up on Arthur. They couldn’t leave the first circle now that Alfred was at risk of Raging and Ivan was suspecting Arthur of the truth. But they couldn’t stay because the Demonocracy was coming…“Dammit we don’t have time for this…” he muttered, and Alfred nodded helplessly against him.

The muttering behind them got more prevalent, and Arthur shut his eyes tightly, his hands shaking a little while he firmly kept Alfred close. It was getting darker, and snowing a little more heavily than before. But, it didn’t feel as much like it was snowing; snow was much softer and Arthur felt like sharp little prickles were raining upon them. They stung his face and made it harder to breathe.

“Paranomia.” Ivan said behind him, getting his attention. His voice was quiet, perhaps out of consideration for Alfred who everyone was watching as he gradually breathed heavier and heavier. Arthur held him close almost desperately, thinking of both Alfred and the demons surrounding them. Every single one of them was in danger for more than one reason. “Paranomia, I will not ask again what you are hiding from us. There’s no use in denying it now: you’re different. We should all be dead right now but somehow you’re keeping Alfred calm. I can no longer follow a dishonest leader without question. It would be defying the very values you try to teach us.”

Arthur gritted his teeth when the others agreed quietly. “You’ll have to. We don’t have a choice, Ivan, we have to go now, I can explain everything later, y-”

“I will not take another step away from this circle until I know what you’re hiding.” Ivan interrupted him coldly, and Arthur cursed under his breath. Alfred was only growing more agitated because of the rise in conflict yet again. He clung tighter to Arthur, burying his face in his shoulder and murmuring “No, no, no, no…”

Not knowing how to answer, Arthur started saying quiet, soothing things to Alfred to distract everyone. He could feel them, all of them watching his every move and scrutinising it to his very breathing. 

He couldn’t mess up now. 

Slowly, he pulled Alfred more comfortably against him and allowed the demon’s trembling to disguise his own from the cold and the situation. He was still shivering, but having Alfred pressed up against him helped a little. Taking, a reassuring, shuddering breath, he turned his head slightly and raised his voice so they could all hear. “We do not have time to wait. The Demonocracy is coming, we have to leave. Now.” he said calmly.

Ivan hissed behind him. “On what grounds? The death of one of their own? How can you trust that?” even some of the other demons seemed surprised by that answer, but Arthur didn’t falter. 

“We have every reason to trust her; she died by crying. Would any of you like to meet the same fate?” Arthur didn’t look around for an answer. “Her last words were a warning to us. We cannot stay here over something so trivial, there’s too much at stake.”

Arthur could nearly feel Ivan’s outrage, despite how contained it was. “Trivial?” he asked. “You think this is trivial? I’m questioning you and you call it trivial?!” he laughed bitterly. “You’re even more foolish than I thought.”

Not quite, Arthur thought, and resisted a grimace. “We do not have time to wait.” he repeated himself.

Footsteps approached from behind, slow and deliberate. “Oh, I think we do,” Ivan growled, taking his time to come near. “Your own values are working against you, don’t you see? You tell us we can’t trust anyone in power and to question anyone with authority. You’re practically asking us to question you! And how are you handling that? You’re going in circles and hoping to reason with us that way. It’s not getting you anywhere; we’re still here, and we’re not leaving until you answer me.”

Lowering his head, Arthur looked at the ground and let out a long sigh. As if he could sense what Arthur was thinking, Alfred gripped Arthur’s arm and looked up at him, shaking his head. “No,” he whispered. “Please, Arthur.”

Alfred was still trembling from the effort of suppressing his Rage. Trying to calm him, Arthur rubbed his back and smiled at him a little sadly.

There were larger things at stake. Nothing really mattered, nothing right then.They could all die within the next few moments and even that would be insignificant compared to what they should be concerned about. He looked into Alfred’s pale eyes for the reflection of the space all around the army, and the cold grey skies of Hell.

He knew what he had to do.

O~o~O

“How are you feeling?”

…

…

…

“...How are you today?”

The questions echoed gently around the small room, and was answered with the soft, mechanical shifting of the contraptions in the back. The only answer was a whirring sigh, and faint flickering in the colours of the small lights. They blinked impatiently

A small smile came to Camael’s face. “Oh, you do want out, don’t you?” the figure jolted weakly in a reaction, a result of his rerouted nervous system. It seemed to seemed to sense Camael’s increasing smugness. “Hnn, you’ve made such remarkable progress. I’m admittedly surprised, considering your firm rebellious attitude. Perhaps your treatment was more powerful than I thought.”

It was impossible to tell if the soft clicks and flickers were out of bitterness or were merely an acknowledgement.

Still, Camael gave a satisfied hum and casually crossed the room towards the figure. At times before, the figure would have been jerking and the whirring would have gotten louder and the reactor would make noises like an alarm. Bathed in red by the blinding lights, Camael would laugh. Now, the figure hung its head, and was still. The lights were faint, the gears turned indifferently.

“At last.” he let out a pleased sigh. The figure appeared almost calm, if uncomfortable. But that wasn’t what Camael was looking for.

He may have still been adapting to his new form, but he seemed ready enough.

Camael grinned. “Rise.” he told the figure.

Slowly, miraculously, Francis uncurled himself and began to get to his knees. In a mechanical fashion, imperfect but still strong, he got to his feet and met Camael’s eyes in an unfeeling stare. Then, he made the angelican salute.

Camael nodded in approval. “Perfect.”

Outside, the angels lived in oblivious harmony, as always. No one thought anything of Francis’s strange outburst all those moons ago, in fact, it seemed like the witnesses had mostly forgotten about it completely. The choirs and the cathedrals and all the peace seemed perfectly undisturbed. It was a perfect kingdom of compliant little lambs, just as God had intended.

And Camael was loving it. All was well in Heaven as far as he was concerned, as far as the angels were concerned. All was well to all but one.

O~o~O

Alfred shook his head vigorously. “Arthur, no, please, you can’t! They won’t understand!” he pleaded, his eyes wide with horror. He shook Arthur by his shoulders, and looked around when the others reacted to his raised voice.

All around them, the air felt heavier, and of course the other demons were very curious to find out just what in the hell Alfred was talking about. Alfred met eyes with Basch, with Ludwig, with the others who were so close before, and now so far in nothing but a moment. Their faces held doubts, questions that had been eating away at the back of their minds for so long. Only now, their complacency with their new leader had been interrupted and they wouldn’t follow without answers. Alfred wanted to beg them to understand that they couldn’t understand, and keep Arthur from making a huge mistake.

But, Arthur wouldn’t be moved. He moved Alfred aside roughly to face Ivan and the other demons with a cold expression, silencing their whispers with nothing but a look.

“Understand what?” Ivan sneered, seeing that he had won. “Understand the lies? The-”

“Shut up, Ivan.” Arthur sighed, looking right at him. “Alfred’s right. None of you will understand. But you leave me no choice.”

The silence faded again with the confused murmurs from everyone else. Alfred rushed up and held Arthur’s arms at his sides desperately, but it was obvious that Arthur had made up his mind. “Please Arthur, please no. They’ll kill you!” Alfred begged.

Arthur turned just slightly to look at Alfred before calmly looking away again, any hint of caring lost. “They can’t kill me.” was all he said.

His eyes glowed and his hands rose, and Alfred backed off helplessly as Arthur began to transform.

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Ah, man it's been forever hasn't it? Was the last update really Christmas?? Haha, I'm so sorry to any loyal readers, it's been quite a year so far.
> 
> Did everyone hear about Chester Bennington?? For those who don't know, pretty much half of this story is inspired by Linkin Park songs, and Chester was the lead singer of Linkin Park. He committed suicide, and pretty much everyone in my generation is affected greatly because a lot of us have been through hard times, emotional turmoil, and perhaps have even contemplated suicide before. It's very sad that we all have lost such a bold hero to our time. Wherever he may be, I hope he's found what he was looking for.
> 
> It's been awhile since I've written, I've barely touched Messenger all year. A lot happened in my life, not anything bad, just a lot of stuff that's made it hard to think about writing. I mean, I figured out what I want to do with my life, I found love, and I've grown considerably...And I'm not done yet!! Updates will still be few and far in between possibly, but I have not given up on Messenger!
> 
> I won't even bother with the disclaimer anymore, everyone knows I don't own anything XD
> 
> I hope all of you are having a wonderful year!! Keep doing you, and I'll try to stick with this as often as possible. Love y'all!
> 
> ~Madz


	30. In Between Part Two

O~o~O

“Let me apologize to begin with.”

Shocked silence was the only thing that met those words, and Arthur was relieved for it. Everyone around him was too stunned to react and he needed to take advantage of that before they had enough time. He stepped forward, shuddering and red from the cold.

“Let me apologize for what I’m about to say, because trying to be someone else was harder than it seemed, and...somehow I got caught up in between.” He turned, meeting eyes with all of the demons around him and spreading his arms to show he meant no harm or ill-will. He was completely defenseless, and he assumed everyone could tell he had goosebumps all over and the snow was making it difficult for him to move or speak.

But it didn’t take long for Ivan to react.

“You!” he snarled, lunging forward and grabbing Arthur by his wings. “You fiend! You liar! You false shepherd!” he forced Arthur to his knees and yanked on his hair to make the angel face him.

None of the other demons knew how to react and watched, all except for Alfred, who yelled out in Arthur’s defense. However, his voice was lost to a harsh gust of wind that made Arthur flinch and shiver harder. His tunic and wings didn’t do much once the cloth and feathers were wet with snow. But, he didn’t resist at all. Ivan’s grip slackened as he observed Arthur’s apparent surrender.

Slowly, Arthur reached up and gently rested his hand on top of Ivan’s, as he still had a hold on Arthur’s hair. “Do you feel this?” he asked Ivan delicately, in a voice too low for the others to hear. “Yes, I have hidden this part of me from you, but it was not my intention to fool you.” Slowly, Ivan let go of Arthur and backed up a step, wide eyed and shaken from the warmth he could feel.

Arthur struggled to stand. His hands and feet were losing feeling and it felt like every inch of his body was being stung by snow. But he wouldn’t let the cold keep him down. Once he was up, he raised his chin and looked at all the demons, choosing his words carefully.

“Yes, I am an angel! Behold, my weakened state, for I cannot tolerate the cold like a true demon.” His feathers began to stick to each other and with every breath he shook more and more. “But I am not your enemy. Everything you thought you knew about me before is still true, the only difference is my true identity. I am not a false shepherd. My truths and goals are the same as they were, and all along I have been trying to lead you to freedom.”

Ivan’s nose wrinkled and he huffed, now hesitant to attack. “Freedom? An angel’s freedom is not the same as a demon’s freedom, Para-...Angel.”

Letting out a weak laugh, Arthur looked to Ivan. “My name is and always was Arthur, and I was still an angel when I earned the name Paranomia. I have always been the same. And I am not leading you to an angel’s freedom or a demon’s freedom; I have defected from both. If you don’t believe me, do you see a halo upon my head?”

Some of the demons looked at each other at this remark, looked up, looked around, and backing away somewhat. Not from Arthur, not because there was no halo, but because behind Arthur, Alfred struggled to control his anger. He trembled with fury, the rage building up with no one there to stop it. But he tried. He fell to his knees and reached desperately for the snow all around him, matting himself with it to cool the heat building up inside of his chest. The harder he tried, the more the heat was provoked. Alfred breathed heavier, his eyes looking wilder, as if reflecting his focus melting away. His body gave in to the Rage, consuming him from the inside.

“How can we trust you?!” Ivan demanded, becoming a little bolder. He took a step closer to Arthur, reasserting himself, and puffing up as if to intimidate Arthur. “You can’t expect-”

“You!” the whole ground seemed to shake beneath them all with that voice, and Arthur turned around to see Alfred developing into his Rage form. Everyone went pale, except for Arthur, who faced Alfred calmly. Alfred rested his red, predatory gaze on Ivan, and spoke in a disjointed growl. “You’ve gotta get it inside...Push it back down, back down…” Alfred’s whole from trembled, containing a fury that could not be explained. Every fiber of his being twitched and grew with hatred. Arthur could practically feel Alfred’s new blood boiling.

His explosive Rage was imminent and Arthur knew it. Raising his chin and setting his jaw, Arthur folded his wings and looked fixedly on the massive demon. “‘Push it back down,’” he repeated, walking towards Alfred. “Back down, back down…”

He successfully caught Alfred’s attention, the bloodthirsty red eyes suddenly trained on him. Arthur held up his hands, as if approaching some wild animal while he dared to go closer and closer. The others all watched with sheer horror as he, the frozen angel, walked fearlessly to the promise of certain death. A gust of wind stung his face, and he blinked up at Alfred, squinting through the snow.

By this point, Alfred was more than twice as big as Arthur, and he looked down with his head tilted. For a cold eternity, the giant monster eyed Arthur without feeling or meaning. Everyone else was frozen with anticipation, just waiting to be frightened by any sudden movement, all except Arthur who looked serenely upon the beast. He kept the massive demon still with just a look, his breathing in perfect time with Alfred’s. He was tranquil and magnificent, an angel who stood alone but proud. The unfeeling red eyes then changed. Something in him recognized Arthur, and he crawled closer. Arthur beckoned him with widespread arms. His hands glowed, and Alfred moved closer and closer until Arthur could touch him.

And that was what he did. Arthur rested a hand on Alfred’s shoulder, relieving the demon of the hatred he harbored. The demons all around could feel the chilling desire to kill melt away like the snow from Arthur’s magic.

Everyone’s eyes were wide as they watched Alfred slowly return to himself. The thick, spiny tail, the long, curled horns, the red eyes, all disappeared in a long, frozen moment.

The wind made the silence roar in all their ears. Alfred’s breathing was heavy for a little bit, and he rested his weight on Arthur until he could catch it again. Arthur turned to look over his shoulder at Ivan, whose eyes were still wide.

“If you’ll allow me to explain, I will tell you everything.” Arthur said, absentmindedly rubbing Alfred’s back.

Ivan shook his head as if coming out of a trance, and rubbed the back of his head. “No- no, of course, go right ahead.” he conceded in a small voice.

It was a victory. Alfred weakly laughed a little disbelievingly against him, and Arthur finally was able to take a deep breath, blinking up at the sky and thanking whatever powers let him luck out of this mess. “I didn’t think that would work,” he breathed solemnly, shivering a little more. “It was just my best bet.”

“I’ll take your best bet any day,” Alfred whispered back, still grinning. He slowly recovered his strength, and thought to rub Arthur’s arms a little bit. “Maybe you should switch back so your fingers don’t fall off.”

Nodding, Arthur let out a sigh and patted Alfred’s head. “I’m thinking if I can get them all to follow me, I can find a warmer place so I can explain better. I can barely feel my limbs as it is.”

He sincerely hoped the demons could be happy with what they could see for at least a little while; they might have forgotten he was cold, and by the time he finished his whole story, he feared he might be permanently frozen. Once he was sure Alfred could stand on his own, he turned and addressed the army. “I’m sure you’re wondering just exactly what the hell am I doing here as an angel, and I will tell you. You have my word. But I can’t do it here, I’m losing feeling from the snow. We have to go, we should have left already. Once we find someplace slightly warmer, we can stop and I’ll tell you everything. You all deserve the truth. Is that acceptable?”

The demons all looked at each other, not seeming to oppose, but not necessarily agreeing either. After looking to Ludwig, Basch, and some others, it was Ivan who finally gave him an answer. “That...Will do.” he agreed with a nod, observing Arthur’s freezing figure.

“Good.” Arthur replied, raising his hands to transform. The light surrounded him, and once again, everyone stared at him in awe. They watched his white, pure, angelic form turn dark and sleek, like they remembered. He looked at them all, once the transformation was over, and motioned up. “Let’s go.”

Flying was painful at first, but slowly, through his grimace at the cold, Arthur relaxed once he could finally feel his wings moving. He led them to the East, sparing a glance backwards in the direction of home. He had already made peace with the fact that he would never return, he would never know that comfort again. With a glance to his right, he had the feeling maybe Alfred hadn’t. “Alfred.” he called out, seeing him face West again. “It’s time to look forward now.”

Alarmed, Alfred swiveled his head to look at Arthur for a moment, and then smiled a little sadly. “Yeah. Sure. Will do.”

Arthur nodded to him, and then faced forward again himself, seeing the cold fog ahead.

“Er, Paranomia?”

Glancing to his left, Arthur acknowledged Ivan. “Yes?”

Ivan sighed, flying closer to Arthur and lowering his voice. “Paranomia, I’m...Sorry. I jumped to conclusions and my first instinct is to attack. You have tried to train that out of us and I have failed you as a comrade. I questioned you when you were the one trying to help us. For that I apologize.”

Raising his eyebrows, Arthur nodded to Ivan. What a heartfelt apology, and he genuinely meant it, too. Arthur could see the nervous regret in Ivan’s dark eyes. “Don’t even fret it.” he replied. “You were right, in a way. To question me. I suppose you all were going to find out I’m different one way or another, though I suspect you knew it from the beginning.” he smirked.

That got a little smile, and Ivan relaxed a little bit. “You have always been just slightly strange. Before, I never said too much out of fear; you’re capable of bringing down a legion. But after following you for this long, I got bolder. You’ve made me stronger, and I’ve learned you don’t use your power without reason.”

Arthur frowned. “What do you mean?”

Ivan looked around as if trying to think of the proper words. “You...You aren’t rash or angry. It is in demon nature to react with violence when you’re unhappy. When I met you, you were not that way; you were more defensive. You didn’t need to assert yourself to prove you were better.”

“And now?” Arthur noticed Ivan had referred to the past.

Sighing slightly, Ivan smiled wryly at Arthur. “You are more aggressive. Quicker to react without as much reason. A good leader in a demon’s eyes, just different than before.”

“Well,” Arthur considered, thinking about Ivan’s hesitant answer. “Change is necessary. Discipline is important.”

Ivan nodded distantly. “Of course.” he said vaguely, and then flew back to where he was before, leaving Arthur to ponder on his own. He had to be more aggressive, didn’t he? The worlds weren’t going to wait on him, so he had to make his goals work and have the appropriate attitude.

They traveled further than Arthur remembered; he stopped seeing familiar landmarks, and the snow was beginning to get so thick that it obscured anything else he might recognize anyway. While he was warmer than before, his heart pumping blood fast because of the exercise, his fingers still ached with lack of feeling. He wasn’t sure if his nose was still attached, and he couldn’t help but squint through the snow because their speed made his eyes sting. Even his wings were beginning to go a little numb from the horned tips. But he could ignore the pain for now, it didn’t matter in the larger scope of things. He kept scanning what he could of the ground below, but most of what he spotted was barren land. No shelter could be seen.

Arthur flexed his fingers, and then brought his hands close to his mouth to blow on them in the hopes of making them warmer. He could see Alfred up ahead, flying slightly lower, probably to try and see the ground better. And, it didn’t look like he was the only one who was cold; looking around at everyone else too, Arthur could see the other demons weren’t flying as steadily as before. The deeper in hell they went, the more the chilly wind blew right through them.

“Paranomia!” he turned as he heard a voice call out. “I see caves below!”

Looking down, Arthur wasn’t sure he could spot any caves, but Elizaveta flew closer to him and pointed down. “There, you see the dark rocks that peek through the fog? There is a large cave with many tunnels down there, I’m sure of it.”

“You think so?” he looked at Elizaveta, and then down towards the caves she saw. “Alright. Head down! We have shelter!” he signaled and led the army to the strange rocks below. The ground approached fast, and the fog nearly blinded them as soon as they hit it. Arthur slowed a bit to save control, and shuddered hard when the thick, cold air hit him.

But soon enough, the dark rocks came into view, along with a broad opening that confirmed they were looking at a cave. Looking up, and over, Arthur saw it was a very big, very expansive cave. It seemed to go on and on...But before Arthur could try and see it all, he was reminded of how cold he was by a strong wind, and decided to go inside before he froze. Followed by the whole army, he dove into the dark mouth of the cave.

Upon landing, Arthur discovered they couldn’t see, but that was an easy fix. Using his magic, he illuminated the walls, to the surprise of the demons. They all looked around the area, a faint glimmer of wonder in their eyes as Arthur concentrated on creating organic light. The colors, he wasn’t sure they’d ever seen the colors he made before. It was golden and rosy and blue all at once, and the sight of it was physically calming to everyone watching. The light magic also created warmth around him, and he sighed in relief. His body was more fatigued than he originally thought. He spent a few more moments perfecting the light, coating the moss until it all glowed on its own.

All at once, his presence in the space returned to his body, and the demons started as if jolted out of a daydream. “There, that should be enough.” Arthur said, rubbing his hands. The dim light was enough for him to at least see everyone without straining. Alfred approached him when Arthur shut his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. The others demons looked on curiously while Alfred guided Arthur to a moss covered rock to sit.

“No, no, really, I’m fine, Alfred, don’t worry,” Arthur tried to insist, but Alfred ignored him and sat next to him, shedding his jacket. The demons were also gathering around, talking softly and observing. “I have to explain everything, I can’t rest just...yet.” he yawned suddenly, and quickly shook his head to try and dissipate the weariness. A few others around him laughed quietly. They hadn’t really seen him weak from lack of sleep like Alfred had.

While Alfred put his jacket on Arthur, the demons all slowly started sitting in a circle around him. Arthur assumed the light had calmed them, making them feel content and maybe even a little sleepy like him. They had just traveled a long distance as well, so that definitely had something to do with it. But Arthur also remembered how mild and gentle Alfred had been once he found out Arthur was an angel. Instead of being aggressive, they looked upon him like he was divine, like something precious and fragile. They really hadn’t seen an angel up close, Arthur realized.

Sighing, he noticed he was still in his demon form, and they probably needed to see him as an angel for the sake of being used to the sight of him. He handed Alfred’s jacket back to him, and quickly transformed, while all eyes were upon him. Then, quickly pulling the jacket back around himself, Arthur let out a rough sigh. “Alright, you’ll have to forgive me, the cold hurts me more in this form, and sleep is creeping up as the night wears on. But I will tell you everything.”

Everyone looked to be getting comfortable, ready for a long story. Some of them leaned back upon the rocks, spreading their own jackets or blankets they themselves had. Like a camp of sorts, Arthur had to appreciate their willingness to leave their homes just to follow some renegade angel. They must really have faith in him, but he found that ironic. Wasn’t he, as an angel, supposed to be the one with faith? Well, if there wasn’t a god to be faithful to, he supposed demons had to reverse the roles.

While they all settled down, he tried not to get too comfortable; if he did, he feared he might just fall asleep. Alfred shifted down so he was sitting on the floor of the cave, close to Arthur’s feet. With a nod to each other, Arthur looked up, prepared to tell his story.

“This all started in Heaven.” he began slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Heaven, the utopia we have all been rejected from. That golden, ideal world with no worries but what monsters might be down below. God and his angels, guardians or morality! Like a sort of made up law enforcement, heaven-sent by some magical authority, with a whole list of excuses as to why they’re better than any other living creature. A whole elaborate tale that gives them some higher purpose and value over anyone else. They called it the Bible.

“Some time ago, there was one angel in Heaven who asked more questions than he took answers. An angel who preferred time alone, who sat quietly and listened while everyone else spoke. He was different, but see, he was perfect because he was very skilled and very keen, and it must have been that which damned him. Because he was perfect for the grand mission. They told him he’d be a hero, that with his intelligence and ideals, surely he’d be able to stop the war between the Angelicans and the Demonocrats. And that young, naive angel believed it. That damned fool was me, and that mission was why I dove head first into Hell.

“They teach angels from the beginning of their existence to follow along, to accept everything just as it is and never wonder, why? The problem with me was, I was too curious. I wanted to know too many things. And perhaps I was just so intelligent that they perceived me as a threat. Not right then, mind you, young angels wouldn’t hurt anyone. But they most likely feared that in the future, I’d create greater problems. So, they told me I was going to save everyone and kicked me out of Heaven. For good, I might add. I don’t have my halo anymore. At first, I spent most of my time down here missing Heaven, and wanting nothing more than to go home. But I’ve grown since then.

“I still want to complete my mission. Yes it was false; they didn’t want me coming back, so they gave me something to do that couldn’t be done. End the war? It’s impossible, and not because of our differences. It’s impossible because the angels don’t want it to end. They want to fight to have an excuse to hate. And all the while, new angels will be drawn in until all of Heaven is just a fresh hell. A whited sepulchre shrouded in purity while containing mindless hatred. But, I believe I can stop the war, because I’m clever. And I have more freedom than they ever will.

“They made a mistake letting me live. They should have just killed me when they had the chance.” he muttered darkly, leaning forward to rest his chin on his arm. The demons were all murmuring and he lost his train of thought, thinking he had something else to say. But he couldn’t quite remember and decided it didn’t really matter anyway; he’d said what he needed to.

His wings started to droop, and some of the demons fell quiet when Ivan sat up and spoke. “You’re hardly an angel, and barely a demon. What does that make you?” he asked, and a few laughed in response.

They all waited, looking at Arthur, when he suddenly jolted and sat up in alarm. “What did you say?” he asked, earning some more laughter. He had dozed for just an instant, and felt the weight of the night on his eyes. He needed sleep. “What does that make…? Well, I don’t quite know. Alone, for the most part.” he mumbled tiredly.

He yawned and stretched his wings, and it looked like he wasn’t the only one getting tired. Some of the demons, and even Alfred were rubbing their eyes or settling in more comfortably. “I’ll answer anymore questions you...may have,” he yawned again. “But later, if you don’t mind.”

Alfred pulled out a small blanket he must have carried with him and wrapped it around Arthur’s legs, and then moved up and pulled Arthur’s body to lean on him “You gotta get some sleep,” he told Arthur quietly, and Arthur didn’t do much more than nod faintly in response, already drifting off.

The last thing he felt was Alfred adjusting him comfortably, and he faded out along with the lights. He felt like he was floating in water, the ripples moving his body but only in his head. A distant echo resounded, but it was only a dream, only a dream…

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man haha, it's been forever again, hasn't it? I'm sorry for all the distance between updates, it's been hard finding inspiration recently, and motivation to even open up the document to keep writing. Not sure if anyone remembered, but I did Christmas specials for Messenger twice, and missed out this year. That's because the chapter before last was last year's Christmas special...Yikes! I really need to work more on this story huh??
> 
> Anyway, I didn't really think this chapter was too exciting even though quite a bit happened. Arthur finally revealed himself to be stuck in between, in a sense! But he's also become a little full of himself honestly, and cruel in more ways than just one. Chapters after this one will be better, or so I hope in between school and whatnot.
> 
> So! I don't own Linkin Park or Hetalia or anything like that, just this crazy plot. Makoyana drew the cover!! I wish you all happy holidays and happy new year! Here's to 2018 being more productive than 2017, hopefully you'll be seeing more of me as the year goes on.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> ~Madz


	31. When They Come For Me

O~o~O

Deeper in the East than Arthur’s army was a huge, gothic cathedral built into the side of a mountain. From a distance, it appeared abandoned a long time ago and purposeless. Dead-looking vines and dust covered the outside walls, and there appeared to be cracks in the foundation. Even the wind was quiet, only whistling through the gaps and pillars with an eerie, haunting melody.

But inside, the dark church was rushing with life. Panicked demons flew about in a wild frenzy, commanders and soldiers unsure of their orders. Normally spotless marble floors were muddied, and the once chillingly silent halls were filled with urgent chatter.

The cathedral wasn’t usually in such a commotion. It was really just another base where demons trained to take on the armies of the angels, and all the demons were very militant and orderly. They had to be; it was the biggest base in all of upper Hell, and therefore home to the most important and powerful commanders. Yet now, with recent events affecting the Demonocracy’s numbers and bases, new demons were having to adjust and react to the one demon ultimately in charge of this place.

“What do you mean ‘they disappeared?!’ You let Paranomia destroy the base and get away?! It’s almost like you’re afraid of one demon!” the arc demon roared down at some trembling sub-commander. The massive demon leaned forward in his throne until his nose was nearly touching the other. His voice suddenly lowered. “You are not fit for command. There are many more willing to take your place. You are relieved from duty.” he spat.

The commander widened his eyes. “N-no sir, you don’t understand! Paranomia’s army was nowhere to be found!” he insisted, waving his arms desperately like it could illustrate his truth any better. “W-we couldn’t-...Gaak…!” the commander’s body fell to the ground, twitching, while the arc demon ripped his claws from his neck.

Sitting up, the arc demon wrinkled his nose in disgust at the body before him. “Paracelsus!” he barked, licking his claws clean. “Dispose of this disgrace to the Demonocracy. And bring me another commander. If Paranomia’s head is not brought to me by the end of the moon, you’re next.”

“Yes, your highness.” Paracelsus stood boredly from a small spot beside the arc demon. Without even a slight sign of revulsion, Paracelsus bent to grab the dead demon by his collar and started dragging him out of the room. The only sounds in the room were the faint growls of the arc demon and the lifeless body sliding across the marble floor.

It was a long walk to the cliffside; Paracelsus dragged the body through the large worship chambers and through a main hallway, even past some dungeons. The ground always seemed to be damp. However, especially in the lower floors, the dampness didn’t necessarily come from water. 

Down in the lowest pits of the cathedral were the most important and dirty cells, harboring the most precious prisoners. There, captured angels lived out their lives, unaware that they were delicacies waiting to be consumed on special occasions. 

The longer the angels were stuffed in their little cages, the more they became like mad birds, flapping about and beating upon the bars like animals. The rough stone floors were littered with bloodied feathers, as there wasn’t enough room to fully spread their wings. One damned soul had lost nearly all his feathers, and shuffled around his cage with bloody feet like a little pig. All of them had lost any concept of language or society, and resorted to behaviour even lower than that of a human. They screeched after Paracelsus, reaching their dirty arms out. Paracelsus didn’t even spare the prisoners a glance.

All the way on the other side of the cathedral, Paracelsus finally reached the cliffside. There, the open, sour air swelled and churned the clouds above them. The limp body of the dead commander looked blindly up at the dark skies one last time before Paracelsus unceremoniously heaved the body over the side of the cliff.

The body fell past the jagged rocks and the heavy wind fiercely tore through it. A strong gust whipped off one of the wings straight from its back. Paracelsus watched until it hit the water, a dark, magic lake that was home to centuries of rotting bodies. The shore was made entirely of bone.

Paracelsus nodded, and then turned around to head back inside.

O~o~O

The silhouette of a lone figure on a high cliff.

‘When the lights go out and we open our eyes…’

He looked up to the sky full of stars like he’d never seen. The colors were rich and full, shining in the sky and spreading to consume all that he could see. A violet curtain swelled and rippled up above like celestial water, majestic and entrancing. The aurora could distract him from the snow, the blaring cold that threatened to freeze his blood and turn his flesh to stone. He narrowed his eyes, looking for a sign from above, but the clouds and the snow were beginning to obscure the aurora.

‘Out there in the silence, I’ll be gone…’

The snow formed a figure above him, glowing the same violet color from the sky. Lightning tore through it, highlighting its dark shape through the dark clouds. He paled as the figure approached him, thunder rumbling like a threat all around him.

‘Let the sun fade out and another one rise…’

He saw the outline of angel wings, and with every beat of those massive wings, the aurora was absorbed into the figure. It was liberation; the figure raised its arms and looked up, having won the power of the earth and sky. It shed the darkness, and lifted the light upon the horizon.

Shielding his eyes as the newborn sun rose, he watched in fearful wonder as the light melted the dark and the cold. “You must be ready,” the figure told him, as it faded away into the light, dying in the new sun. “The time will come for you to step back in the dark again.”

‘Climbing through tomorrow, I’ll be…’

Thunder clapped. Arthur jolted.

He looked around blindly for a moment before he remembered he was in a cave. At the sound of voices, he breathed in very deeply and shifted. His body felt weak, muscles and joints sore with sleep and aching from resting in an odd position for so long. He grunted to himself and flexed his hands and wings to get the blood moving again. After sleeping on a bed for so long, his body had forgotten its previous conditioning of sleeping alone and cold in a barren alleyway.

Despite his discomfort, he did manage to sleep deeply and for that he was grateful. Only in his sleep was he free of the cold pit of hell.

He shuddered at the thought, and finally sat up.

The nearby voices were outside of the cave. The rest of the army must have been discussing what to do next because they were still too close to the first circle. Arthur started to stand up properly, rubbing at his eyes, when he felt a weight shift off his shoulders. Looking down, he realized he had been covered with several blankets, and others were placed around him. The demons must have moved them when they awoke and noticed he was still sleeping.

Arthur tried to ignore the rush of heat to his face and quickly stood to transform into his demon form once again.

Outside, Alfred and some of the others were standing in a circle, observing a crude map drawn into the ground with a stone. Many other demons were talking in small groups with each other, but Alfred, Ivan, Basch, Ludwig, and some others were more noticeable despite their hushed conversation. Arthur steeled himself for the bitter cold and went around to several other groups to see how they were all doing, moving around all the different parts of his army. He walked around as he usually did, a silent observer, but he noticed now they would all go quiet once the demons noticed him.

“Don’t mind me,” he’d say, and the groups would hesitantly continue talking, only they would each glance over at him every so often. Not like he wasn’t welcome, but more like they didn’t know how to act around him anymore.

He should have known. Revealing his true form to them changed the way they all saw him, creating a gap between what they knew before and what they could see when he was an angel. He sighed to himself, only seeing more work to get them to trust him again. After he visited all the little groups of his army, he straightened his jacket and finally circled back to the one that mattered.

“...And these caves are not on the traditional maps; only experienced thieves can get their hands on something more detailed.” Elizaveta was saying. “Is this really the best you have, Alfred?”

Alfred shrugged. “Okay, so I’m not the best artist, and I’m no thief, but this is all from memory, alright? I didn’t think to take a map with us. So this is the best we have for now.” Crossing his arms, he glanced over to Ivan, who looked to be studying the map very closely. “You got anything?”

Setting his jaw, Ivan narrowed his eyes at the map and shifted across both feet. He was quiet. Ideas and profound thoughts seemed to be written all over his face. After a moment, everyone looked over at him, anticipating a response. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Everyone leaned forward a bit, ready for what he was going to say. 

Finally, he relaxed and looked up at Alfred with the expression of utmost certainty. “I cannot read the map.” was all he said.

Everyone then looked to Alfred, who blinked several times in disbelief. “Are you serious?” he asked. Seeing no doubt in Ivan’s expression, he looked around the group for help. “Yao? Basch? Ludwig?”

Ludwig just raised his eyebrows, shaking his head at the map.

Alfred threw his hands up in exasperation. “Ugh! You guys aren’t even trying! Elizaveta, can you read it?”

Squinting at the map and tilting her head, Elizaveta tried to read it. “Well, you know, if you sort of...Just kind of, erm, how do you say...If you just imagine a map you can kind of see it?” she sighed at Alfred’s hopeful expression and gave him an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, Alfred. I don’t really see anything.”

Arthur rolled his eyes with a smile and finally came into the group, patting Alfred’s back when his whole figure seemed to droop. “Not to worry, I have a map with me,” he said, pulling his journal out from his inside pocket. He flipped a few pages as everyone gathered around, and then backtracked some. Finally, he found what he was looking for and opened the book for everyone to see. The map was too small to harbor many details like the caves they were at, but it was enough to find their relative location.

“My map looks exactly like that!” Alfred insisted, but he was largely ignored as Elizaveta took the map to observe it more closely. 

As everyone shifted closer so they could all see, Elizaveta searched the rough sketch and traced the lines with a finger. She turned the book one way, and then another, and finally settled on holding it up diagonally. “We are here,” she said, pointing to one spot in the bottom left. “However,” she said, once the others started talking. “This place leaves us exposed.”

There was some confusion among them all, and Arthur frowned, trying to see what she meant on his own map. “How?” Ludwig asked. “We barely spotted these caves before. Surely it would be easy for the Demonocracy to overlook.”

“Are you saying we have to leave these caves? There aren’t many other options for shelter.” Yao pointed out. Ivan nodded in agreement.

Alfred crossed his arms.. “Yea, he’s got a point. Unless we want to rough it for awhile, but it’s too cold for Arthur, I think we have to make sure we have shelter.” he glanced pensively at Arthur.

Shaking his head, Arthur held up his hands. “Do not take my wellbeing into account. We choose a place specifically to hide ourselves from the Demonocracy, not to be comfortable.”

“No, no, no,” Elizaveta laughed at all of their points. “I can do better than that. Look here, this cave opening is directly in between the first circle’s base and the second circle’s base. It’s not marked here, but I know it’s close to a straight shot. The only reason we barely spotted these caves before was because of the snow and the fog, but the weather changes around here. I believe these caves are more visible when the sky is clear. The Demonocracy would most definitely think to check here. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still use them,” she smirked with self satisfaction, to everyone else’s confusion.

Arthur sided up with her as a strong breeze blew over the stony plan they were standing on, shivering and trying to see where she was going. He squinted at his map, looked across the blurry horizon, and turned to look back at the cave. “The caves…” he murmured. “...They keep going, don’t they?”

Elizaveta nodded. “Exactly. There is an intricate network of them; I saw it once on a map. We can map these out ourselves and use them to our advantage! We can live here, train here, place traps, hide, and survive. I believe we can find just about everything we need here, but we have to go a little deeper. Before, it would have been impossible, but with Arthur’s light, we can travel all throughout the caves.”

By then, some of the other groups had joined them with the map, listening in on Elizaveta. Murmurs of speculation started, voices rising over the persistent wind. Arthur crossed his arms as he considered Elizaveta’s proposal. It was a dangerous game to play, but he rather liked the sound of it. After a moment, he couldn’t hide his own wicked grin. 

“We can lay a trap here, making them believe we settled in this region.” he said thoughtfully, and then patted Elizaveta’s shoulder. “I like the way you think, Elizaveta. Right, then!”

He held up his arms and got everyone’s attention, flying a slight distance so they could all come to him. “Here’s the plan: in the waking hours, we’re in the caves, mapping them out and learning where they go. During the sleeping hours, we set traps, try to draw them in. We can’t let them get too close, and we can’t let them find us. So we’ll just stay in the dark for now.”

“But Arthur!” called out Yao. “How will we eat?”

Some of the demons nodded along, as if just realizing food may not be readily available. Arthur just shook his head and waved a hand. “Worry not. We will figure something out today.” he brushed it off, not entirely concerned about the matter.

That didn’t seem to satisfy too many of them, and other demons spoke up with their own concerns. “What about water? Or washing rooms?”

“But how will we clean our clothes?”

“Is there a source of food or water nearby?”

“Are we really going to sleep on the ground all the time?”

It was like a pestering buzz in Arthur’s ears. He sighed, waiting for everyone to fall quiet, but the more he let it go on, the more concerns were raised. The army was slowly realizing that their escape wasn’t entirely planned or well thought out at all. But Arthur couldn’t be expected to answer all of their questions at once off the top of his head, he could only work on one problem at a time. Every question suddenly sounded like an accusation, a doubt about his ability to lead, and he gritted his teeth.

“Shut up!” he finally yelled, clenching his fists. The army then fell quiet, and the only sound was the wind dusting the plain. They all watched him with various expressions of surprise, blinking or freezing under his dangerous stare. “We will figure something out.” he growled in response to every question, giving them the only answer they needed.

He noticed, as he directed groups of demons to do their duties, that Alfred was still. He stood and watched as Arthur gestured about, ordering each demon to complete some task, whether it be mapping, searching for food, finding a water source, anything that could help. Demons peeled out of the group left and right, in pairs and in groups, but never alone. The army standing before him got smaller and smaller with every assignment, but Alfred didn’t seem to notice. He stared straight at Arthur with a strange look in his eyes.

Arthur looked at every demon as they flew away, seeing them each disappear into the fog and the snow. He tried to look anywhere but at Alfred, but finally, Ivan, Ludwig, and Basch and the others were all sent away. Only Alfred remained.

Sighing, Arthur finally looked at Alfred, seeing his dull expression. Arthur had a feeling he knew exactly what Alfred was thinking and feeling, and swallowed thickly. 

“I’m sorry, Alfred.” he said insistently, gesturing behind him at the working army. “I have to.”

O~o~O

The remaining commanders at the cathedral organized for Astaroth. They had their fancy uniforms and decorations to present just how tough they were, but it was clear in their faces that they did not feel as accomplished as they looked. Their power paled in the face of a demon Duke.

Paracelsus watched them all, nervously talking to each other with fear in their eyes. Then, looking over to Astaroth, Paracelsus sighed. As scary as he was, Astaroth really couldn’t be taken seriously. The bone-headed duke was occupied with a skull that he rolled around in his hand, not even paying attention to the assembly before him. It was hard to believe the Duke of hell could be so easily distracted. The way he lounged in his throne was almost childish, and it was such a contrast to see such a huge, battle worn demon sitting and fidgeting grumpily like he didn’t command thousands of demons throughout hell.

Below him, the cluster of commanders spoke in hushed tones for fear of being singled out. They wouldn’t question Astaroth’s immaturity; he could be rolling around in his seat drooling, and the commanders would still quiver before him.

They all appeared to be lined up. Paracelsus gave a short cough to get Astaroth’s attention. “Ahem. My lord.”

The room fell dead silent. All of the commanders stiffened, and watched as the skull Astaroth played with tumbled from his hand. It struck the marble floor with a deafening crack, and rolled a ways towards the commanders. It finally came to a rest once the empty sockets faced them, and the jaw hung off crookedly. The commanders stared at the skull with wide eyes, before glancing back up to Astaroth, who looked at all of them with a dark gaze.

His eyes narrowed with contempt as he scanned the group before him, the indistinguishable faces of failure. Paracelsus sat back and relaxed, waiting for the scene to unfold. 

Finally, Astaroth’s expression melted into a crooked smile. “I’d like to introduce you to my friend,” he leered, gesturing to the skull on the floor. Crossing his legs and resting his jaw on his fist, he grinned at the commanders’ silence. Each of them appeared to be frozen, stiff with formality. “See, this one used to be the top commander at this base. My favorite. I believed he could best anyone who crossed him. That was, until he met his match with the ‘great and powerful’ Paranomia.”

The demons below him all glanced at each other, especially to Phobos, Deimos, and Julius. A grave chill went through them, and all but Julius shuddered at Astaroth’s deceivingly casual look. Julius, however, smiled to himself.

Paying no mind to their reactions, Astaroth continued. “I was prepared to make him my first officer! He was skilled and fearless. His encounter with Paranomia was brief, but apparently, it was enough to turn him into a trembling coward.”

Some of the commanders nodded in agreement, but Astaroth suddenly slammed on the arm of his chair and they all jumped. Paracelsus continued to watch, boredly. “It is unacceptable! Paranomia is one demon. We are an army! I ripped the horns from this commander’s head before he could explain himself, and the same will happen to each of you if Paranomia isn’t brought to me before the moon is out. I want to see for myself what is so terrifying about this unconquerable rebel. Whoever brings him to me will become my first officer. I highly suggest you don’t fail me.” he sat back in his throne, and it suddenly became clear that the entire seat was lined with severed horns melded to iron.

The commanders collectively gave the Demonocratic salute, and bowed their heads with nervous and guarded glances to one another. Pitted against one another in competition, Paracelsus could practically taste their quivering anticipation.

“What are you doing?! Get to it!” Astaroth barked, and the commanders all hurried out of the throne room as fast as they could fly.

The room fell quiet again. Paracelsus let out a sigh as Astaroth leaned back again, biting at his claws.

Standing, Paracelsus flew over to the skull on the floor and picked it up. Before it could be placed back where it belonged on the shelf next to the throne, Astaroth let out a low noise and stared down at Paracelsus.

“Your highness?” Paracelsus questioned dully.

Astaroth’s dark eyes flashed at the demon below him. “Write the script for the next group. Make it shorter. This one was hard to remember.” he growled

“Of course, my lord.” Paracelsus nodded, and placed the skull on the shelf. 

Just before Paracelsus could leave, Astaroth leaned forward again with a self-satisfied smirk. “Oh, and Paracelsus? The angel cages are getting dirty again. Scrub the floors before you leave.”

O~o~O

Arthur’s army spent several hours scouting around their new home. Some brought back maps, others brought back food and water by whatever means they could. They were diligent, and Arthur watched them all go about their assignments with a brooding look. At the same time, he kept an eye over the foggy horizon, staring it down as if his glare alone could keep the Demonocracy from finding them. But the hallowed stone plains were desolate as far as he could see.

While he crouched on his high rock, surveying the area, some of the groups could be heard through the wind in faint murmurs. Below, Ivan and Basch appeared to be debating over a map while they took a break to eat. Elizaveta, Ludwig, and Yao were carrying what looked like skins of animals to the cave. Voices from inside the cavern sounded busy as well. There were piles of wood near the mouth of the cave, other skins laying close by, and gordes filled with what Arthur assumed was water. The meat was being kept inside the cave, while a group in there was assigned to find anything to build a fire with.

It was getting late; they had been working for a long time. Arthur could feel the air getting colder, and felt an increasing urge to hurry. They needed to leave soon, and go deeper in the caves than they had before, to keep ahead of the Demonocracy. Arthur stood up and looked down at his army, before clearing his throat.

“Listen up!” he called out as he flew back down to the ground. He got the attention of those in the immediate vicinity and they looked to him. “Call everyone here. We need to wrap this up and get moving.” he told them, motioning around to ask for the rest of the army.

The demons flew in, the group gathering before him like a swath of loyal, black dogs. He looked over all their faces, noting how some were dirty with their work. Alfred soon joined them, and Arthur began talking once most of the army was present and listening. “You lot have done well today. It’s time to get moving before it gets dark. Gather what you need and let’s go!” he ordered, watching them all pick up anything they could carry. “Who has the maps?”

Elizaveta came forward, and brought up a piece of marked parchment and offered it to him. Taking it, Arthur looked over the proposed route, tracing it thoughtfully, and nodded to her. “You lead the way.” he handed it back to her and motioned up. “Let’s move!”

As the army flew out to the caves in a black rush of wings, Arthur turned and looked over the dead horizon one last time. The wind howled at him, the skies churned like a vengeful sea, and the land all around seemed frozen in time, chilled and devoid of life. Hell was certainly more cruel in the second circle. Arthur smiled wryly and flicked his tail.

“Oh, when they come for me,” he murmured to himself, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll be gone.”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! That only took forever haha! Oh man, this chapter was so hard to write, I'm so glad it's done but honestly disappointed that I couldn't make it longer. It's kind of important because of things that happen both with Arthur and outside of Arthur's point of view. No Camael this time, but instead I have some new characters to introduce!
> 
> Now, I know this sounds bad, but I promise there's no OC's! No Mary Sues, nothing like that. This story is also labeled as a Religious fanfiction on AO3, so I'm using actual biblical characters and such. Astaroth is the duke of hell obviously, and Paracelsus is the other main one that's going to be really important, Paracelsus is actually a character that is well known in Christian demonology and stuff, but I had to use a different name, and you'll find out why later ;)
> 
> The other important thing about this chapter was the dream Arthur had at the beginning! I'll get back to that later, but for now I'm going to analyze the song, since I sort of started forgetting to do that XD Whoops, haha anyway, here we go!
> 
> This chapter was called When They Come For Me by Linkin Park, and it actually has a little sister chapter that's already complete that I'll publish soon! Like hopefully within 24 hours of when I publish this chapter.
> 
> The cool thing about When They Come For Me is the drum beat, it's where I got the inspiration for the Demon Beating. The song does have a curse word!! Sorry about that, but that doesn't keep me from believing this song is cool af XD In my head, the first couple of verses is Arthur acting out his whole little tough guy thing. The first verse goes "I am not a pattern to be followed/the pill that I'm on is a tough one to swallow/I'm not a criminal/Not a role model/Not a born leader/I'm a tough act to follow," and it goes on along the same theme of being unique and fiercely rebellious. It also serves to make it sound like he's complimenting his army because of their ability to keep up with him.
> 
> Next, the whole "Oh, when they come for me, come for me, I'll be gone," phrase? That's like his satisfaction, his pride in the fact that the Demonocracy can't catch him. He's too quick, too clever, and there's nothing they can do about it. He absolutely loves it.
> 
> That's pretty much the most important things about the song. The next sister chapter I mentioned is neat with how it fits with this one; you know how the verse is "When they come for me, I'll be gone?" Well, guess what, Linkin Park also has a song called I'll Be Gone XD So yea instead of doing the last Gymnopedie chapter, I'll be doing that one.
> 
> So about that dream Arthur had! It's really important to remember that, his dreams are about to become more important than they have before.
> 
> Disclaimer!! I don't own Hetalia, the bible, Linkin Park, or the cover image! The cover image was drawn by Makoyana haha and she's definitely an artist y'all should check out!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Sorry that writing takes me so long, I miss writing all the time!
> 
> -Madz


	32. I'll Be Gone

O~o~O

‘I’ll be gone…’

The horizon reversed. Below him was the light, and above him the dark. He couldn’t feel the ground below him, nor the wind through his wings. He opened his eyes to the blurry world, the edges soft and dim. He felt dizzy, like the blood had rushed to his head. The ground above him was dead, but the sky below him was so alive. He had a feeling he was headed towards the dark.

There was a sharp pressure in his chest. That was the only feeling he was aware of; he didn’t feel cold or warm, calm or afraid. There was nothing but that dull place in his chest. He tried to touch it, but he couldn’t even feel his hand moving. There was no movement at all.

He blinked, and the black horizon glittered with a whole galaxy he had never seen before. The pulsating, shimmering lavender light came back in the sky, illuminating the space around him in the most wonderful way. He tried to see it all, to absorb the sight and remember it. He had forgotten it from before. The figure that moved into view stretched within the light and raised its glorious wings before him.

The languid figure moved serenely about the space, paying no mind to him, as if he wasn’t even there. Like he didn’t even exist. But how could he possibly mind? Looking upon this ethereal angel was a privilege by itself. So he blinked calmly at the figure, perfectly content all alone.

Every movement it made was full of grace and elegance; it was a being of pure spirit and faith, existing on a plane that couldn’t be anything other than paradise. Despite the figure’s apparent content, there was something off about the space. He could sense a growing darkness, a troubling future to behold. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt in his heart that something terrible was going to happen.

Illustrating this with a dip in the horizon, the figure betrayed its worry. The stars may shine bright and proud, but even they know one day, the time will come to burn out.

The figure turned its head to face him. His heart jumped in his chest; he was filled with a nervous thrill at being acknowledged by such a flawless being. He was regarded with such omnipotence, and his very existence felt insignificant under its stare. “You are not moved,” it observed, looking at him with no eyes. But he knew the figure could see everything, all that was and all that ever would be glimmered in its sightless eyes.

He shook his head desperately. “I am moved.” he insisted, watching as the sky bled celestial blues and purples and colors he didn’t know existed. His eyes shone with wonder, close to what he felt so long ago in his heavenly home. Love and peace swelled in his chest, memories of times long lost and impossible to reach.

“No,” the figure disagreed, and came closer. He was suddenly overcome by the proximity figure, and tears filled his eyes. “You do not weep.”

Swiping at his eyes, he struggled to look up at the figure. “See here,” his voice trembled before the magnificent being. “I do weep.”

The figure reached for his face and touched him with such sheer gentleness that he couldn’t help but let out a sob. “Not here,” the figure told him soothingly. “You have forgotten how to weep.”

“I do not understand,” he looked up desperately at the figure, eyes shining with tears.

It gave him a pitying look. He didn’t have to see, he just knew the figure was filled with regret and sorrow. “Don’t look down.” was all it said.

Immediately, there was a searing pain in his chest, and he was suddenly aware of his heart thundering in his chest and blood rushing through his ears and his hands flying to his chest. He let out a cry, clutching desperately at a wound he could feel, warm with fresh blood. The air slipped out from under him and suddenly he was falling, falling hard and fast with no control and the wound in his chest was all he knew.

The air whipped by him at impossible speeds, and in the sky he could see many figures clashing above him. But they were so far, he was falling to fast to be able to tell what was happening.

He turned his face up and could see the ground below him approaching fast. Dying bodies littered the ground, and as fast as he was falling, he was certain he was going to join them. Letting out a soft sob, he accepted his fate, and curled in on himself in the air, cradling the wound on his chest.

He shut his eyes tightly, and just that quickly, the entire setting was gone. The only sound he could make out was his own breathing. He could sense the figure again, holding his head close. The figure leaned close to his ear to whisper to him.

“Not yet.”

O~o~O

Arthur awoke and sat up abruptly, his heart racing. He looked around quickly, sensing danger and feeling on guard. Blindly, he whipped his head around, trying to identify every threat that hid from his view in every shadow. Finally, he recognized a shape, and paled once he realized how defenseless he was. At least, until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The shadows presented no harm to him, and he let out a quiet sigh. He believed his imagination would one day be the death of him.

Feeling calmer, Arthur looked around the cave. Through the frigid gloom, he could see his own breath, as well as several sleeping forms surrounding him. All over the ground, demons slept, not one too close to another. It was quite a sight to see; Arthur didn’t think he’d ever seen so many resting demons at once before. Luckily, his fit of panic didn’t disturb anyone, and they all continued to rest peacefully.

But, Arthur didn’t think he could join them. The rush of adrenaline upon waking up had made him too jittery, and he didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep.

Still, he lay back down, staring blankly at the mouth of the cave around him. The dream slowly came back to him, but at the same time he recalled it less and less. He couldn’t remember the last time he had such a vivid dream. He didn’t recognize the figure, nor did he know why it wrought such beautiful anguish in his dream self. He couldn’t remember any of the conversation they had.

While he stared aimlessly above, trying to decode his own mind, he remained unaware that he was being watched. A pair of empty blue eyes looked down on him from behind, though the figure was still and relaxed.

The only sound was the wind howling mournfully outside, carrying away the dreams of warmth and life, and bringing in the promise of unforgiving cold.

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the sister chapter to When They Come For Me! My favorite bit about doing this is that the whole line is 'Oh, when they come for me, I'll be gone,' and what do you know? Linkin Park also has a song called I'll Be Gone XD
> 
> So this chapter is a little weird. Remember the odd dream sequence in the last chapter? This is essentially a continuation of it. Arthur with an aurora angel figure thing, with some crazy stuff happening. All I can do here really is analyze the song, I guess I'll do that haha!
> 
> To me, it sounds like I'll Be Gone is about committing suicide. There's a verse that goes "And tell them I couldn't help myself/And tell them I was alone/Oh tell me I am the only one/And there's nothing that can stop me..." and that really gives me the feeling that he could be expressing his final thoughts before ending his life. Sort of doing a disclaimer, like no one helped me, I did this to myself blah blah blah and so on. One thing I really love about this song is the instrumental and how it manages to portray such a distance, like immediately when I hear the opening, I picture Arthur standing alone on a cliff with nothing but vast land all around him. It's pretty neat how it can do that! I love music haha, it's so cool.
> 
> Yea, the entire dream thing is supposed to be some weird foreshadowing for later events, mostly lying in the actual lyrics, so hopefully you'll hang around to see it! I'm excited for this story, despite how slowly it's coming along.
> 
> Oh one more thing before I go, I no longer have a Tumblr! I'm not sure if you remember but I mentioned in a few author's notes some chapters back that I had planned on making a Messenger themed tumblr, and I did, but now I don't have one anymore. It's not a big deal, I just decided Tumblr wasn't for me, so you can catch me writing here or something if you wanted to talk to me.
> 
> Once again a quick disclaimer, I don't own Linkin Park, Hetalia, or Makoyana's wonderful art. Seriously, her art is absolutely amazing! Anyway, y'all have a great day, I'll be here :D
> 
> -Madz


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